High Up Above or Down Below
by Nik216
Summary: Set in the world of 'Rise and Rise Again' as we come to, and through, the events of TDKR. Mostly centered on Talia and Bane, but will include other characters from the previous story and the movie...
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Told you I couldn't stay away for long…**

**This is a little one-shot that is in the same vein as 'Rise and Rise Again'…while you don't have to read it first, it really won't make much sense without doing so.**

**Written with 'Caligirl87' in mind and based on a conversation with the amazing 'leave your sanity at the door'…hope you guys enjoy : )**

**This takes place about six months before the start of TDKR…**

**As if I need to say it, own nothing…not even Franziska...**

**(Revised a little...stuff was botherin' me :))  
**

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"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts…" ~ William Shakespeare

* * *

"I don't care that she's busy, I want to speak to Miranda Tate _now_!"

Talia heard John Daggett's obnoxious voice through the heavy wooden doors of her office. She flexed her hands angrily, digging her nails across the polished surface of the desk as she pushed aside the massive stack of ledgers and binders that constituted the tattered remains of the Clean Energy Project. It had taken a decade, but at last after an untold drain on her personal finances and drenched in the blood of hundreds her fusion reactor was built and her plans were entering their final stages. Revenge, it would be hers, it would be sweet and it would be soon.

"Are you listening or is your English not good enough? I said _now_!"

She scowled at the man's audacity and picked up her phone, buzzing her secretary.

"Yes, Ms. Tate?" The woman's voice answered, a sharp note of anger barely disguised in the accented tone.

"Is there someone here to see me?" She pressed with a smile, letting a fake dose of saccharine sweetness weave into her voice.

"Mr. John Daggett if you are available."

She rolled her eyes, for the millionth time loathing the disgusting trappings and burdens of living her well bred, and mild mannered alter-ego. How simple it would be to handle the situation as Talia; there were men- mercenaries and dictators, feared all across the globe that couldn't stand before her without shaking or crying, this pompous ass would be torn to pieces already. Perhaps Daggett's disrespectful attitude called for a conversation with her dear Bane, they hadn't quite discussed how he was going to be eliminated after his infrastructure and money were no longer useful…if nothing else her protector could always be counted on to deliver a particularly effective end to a problem. The man had such _talented_ hands.

Shaking herself from the revelry she smiled once again into the receiver, "Absolutely Sabine, please apologize for the delay and send him in."

* * *

An hour later a red-faced John Daggett stormed out of Miranda Tate's office railing about her inept business skills and her inability to recoup any sort of financial loss from the energy project. Admittedly it had been incredibly difficult for Talia to stand there with a straight face as the ignorant man shook his little fist in her face…he really had _no_ idea.

Talia sighed tiredly, rubbing at the corner of her eyes, trying to avoid smudging her makeup. It had been a long day. Suddenly her office door flung open to reveal her secretary, Sabine Borchert who seemed to be in much the same mood following Daggett's departure.

She strode into the room, making sure to carefully close the door behind her before taking a seat on one of the oversized leather chairs in front of her desk. With a sigh she absently unclipped her long blonde hair from its severe and conservative style, shaking her head back and forth to loosen the curls. It only took a moment for the demure, reserved Sabine to melt away and expose the shrewd, calculating face of Franziska Renke.

Talia couldn't help but smile at the sight of her comrade trussed up in a Chanel suit and a twelve hundred dollar pair of Christian Louboutin stilettos. It was such a far cry from the skinny teenage girl in a leather jacket and ripped jeans that she had met so long ago; though one look into her cold, blue eyes revealed that she was not far at all.

"That man is going to have an unfortunate fall down the stairs if he talks to me one more time about my fucking accent." Frankie groused sharply.

"Oh come now, Mr. Daggett is a charming man and he deserves much better than a fall down the stairs," She answered tutting her tongue at her gently, "I much prefer to see him dangled off the roof, entrails hanging out or perhaps that throat of his needs to be slit or crushed…something far more personalized."

That made her smile.

Talia sat back in her chair and pulled open her bottom desk drawer retrieving a crystal decanter filled 50 year Glenfiddich and two matching glasses, pouring them both a decent amount before handing one across the desk to Frankie. While she had never been too fond of scotch, this particular bottle was an exception, it had been a gift from Lucius Fox for Christmas after Bruce Wayne had yet again refused to meet with her about the energy project- she felt it pleasingly ironic to enjoy it while she discussed her plan to destroy his life and burn his world to the ground.

"Have you managed to find us a burglar yet?" She questioned her friend after taking a sip of the warm, smoky liquid.

"Perhaps," Frankie answered staring off into space with a smirk. "Though I find her to be exceedingly self –assured and arrogant; I doubt she's half as good as she thinks she is."

"Hmm, I remember knowing a girl like that once; she tried to put her knife to the throat of a mercenary sniper and ended up with a sprained wrist and a bruised ego, if I recall." Talia needled with a raised eyebrow, "Though in the end she turned out to be very capable."

The blonde snorted inelegantly and rolled her eyes, "Really? You are going to bring that up?" She took a long pull off her drink. "For your information my hands were _frozen_ and that particular sniper got in a cheap shot, I hadn't exactly been stretched out on my back enjoying a fireplace and a fuck all day, like some."

"Whatever makes you feel better about it my dear," Talia chuckled softly.

* * *

For a cat burglar Selena Kyle was unnervingly lax with her personal security Frankie mused with a smile as she shimmied down the rusty fire escape and landed right outside of her window. The apartment was a sad little existence in the middle of Old Town a section of the city that bordered the narrows and had been a nice place to live, thirty years before; now it was little more than ramshackle store fronts and pay by the month living spaces.

It occurred to her then that Ms. Kyle was trying desperately to get away from her sad insignificant life, and she wanted out bad enough to get involved with something and someone as serious as Bane. Poor girl- in the end all of her scheming and scrambling would find her no more help than any of the other citizens of this doomed city.

It was pathetic, really.

Frankie gently pried open the old window and crawled inside without making a sound, finding her way easily in the dark. She had spent the last ten years learning and training with Talia and the League, and as a result she'd managed to adopt the darkness quite well; though she would be a fool to call herself _initiated_.

But her job was not to be a soldier; she lived to serve her mistress, the Demonhead, and her alone. She sat down quietly on a beat up sofa that had seen better days and waited patiently until she returned.

* * *

"You really should get a lock for that window." Frankie waited until the girl was half hanging from the open fire escape before she spoke up. Selena Kyle jumped with shock and fell from her perch, tumbling into the open window and landing on her face with an ungraceful thud.

"Ow." She groaned rubbing the side of her cheek that had collided with the hardwood floor. "What are you doing here?"

The tone in her voice was far too petulant for Frankie's liking. "Checking up on my investment," She answered matter of fact, with a cold stare. "I am sure I do not need to explain to you what the ramifications are if you are unable to do the job I have set for you."

She stood up cautiously, clearing her throat and resumed speaking in a voice that was much more appropriate for the situation. "Yes, I am very aware." Selena pulled a small satchel out of her belt and placed it gently on a table before moving all the way across the room to an open chair. "I managed to get the jewelry that you requested."

The blonde smiled, "How was the safe?"

"Tough," she exhaled loudly. "I was there for a good hour before I finally got it. The damn butler almost caught me in the act, I had to haul ass to get out of there."

Frankie nodded sagely, "You are going to have to keep at it; I expect you to be able to get into Wayne's in less than three minutes."

"Fine," She mumbled. "I'll keep it up."

"Good." Frankie replied standing up and grabbing the black bag, "I'll take this for my time." She didn't wait to see the her no doubt outraged expression before crawling out of the window and scaling back up to the roof.

* * *

For a city that would soon be burned to ash, Gotham spread out before her like it was untouchable. Frankie had taken the long way home, scaling buildings and crawling across a better part of the city's rooftops; it was a necessity, living the buttoned up life of Sabine was beginning to strangle her. She couldn't imagine how Talia was able to convincingly play Miranda Tate every day, groveling and posturing to men who were not fit to lie at her feet. And her absence from Bane- she would never admit it out loud, but it was obvious that their necessary and self-induced separation was tearing her apart. Never had she seen two entwined as completely they were, it was as if one soul had somehow been split in half and manifested in two different bodies.

Her mind was still lost in thought when she reached up to pull herself onto the next roof and she nearly fell to her death when a warm hand clasped around her wrist. Frankie's eyes shot up to meet the gentle gaze of Barsad. The alarm in her body calmed as he helped hoist her up, "I am sorry for scaring you."

"I should have been paying attention," She answered immediately in a stiff tone. "Such carelessness is going to get me killed- no better than that ridiculous _cat-_woman."

Barsad smiled, his handsome features still possessing some of the sadness he seemed to always carry with him. "How is that progressing? Will she be ready?"

"In six months, at least," Frankie sighed. "I have no idea why the Tal…the Demonhead, and Bane insist on using her; I could do it without thinking, with my eyes closed."

He shrugged his shoulders smoothly, readjusting the strap on the heavy rifle that was slung over his shoulder. "I do not think they find it wise for Miranda Tate's secretary to be involved in an act of felony theft." The joke instantly brought a smile to her face, and he continued with a mirroring one of his own, "Besides such a menial task is beneath someone with your talent."

"Thank you." Frankie said quietly, trying to ignore the warmth that spread through her stomach at his casual compliment. Barsad looked away across the cityscape and in the shadows she swore a flush of pink decorated his cheeks and ears.

Before she had any time to think on the emotion or her strange and rather sudden reaction to him, he spoke again. "We are leaving in two days to collect Pavel. Bane has heard rumors that the CIA is attempting to contact him and we need to convince him of the seriousness of our offer." She nodded slowly, ignoring the kick up of her heartbeat at the realization that the plan was finally beginning to move. "He wants her to come to him tomorrow night."

"Of course," Frankie answered with a sad smile, "I will deliver the message."

Barsad nodded solemnly, "Thank you."

They parted without another word, he moving back to the darkness below ground and she to her decadent cage high above the city where they would both play their roles as the faithful servants, unable or unwilling to think about anything else.

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**Reviews are always appreciated…you have NO idea!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: So, the whole idea of a one shot lasted about five minutes…**

**This probably won't exist as a chronological story, but more as a bunch of scenes that I need a home for…thanks to a lovely, lovely muse I already have quite a few of them mulling about upstairs.**

**So here is a rather adult bit that actually follows the first chapter, so if this sort of thing isn't your bag…know that writing it isn't usually mine, though these two just bring it right out of me. : ) **

**I still own nothing…and if you have an idea give me a yell…I am up for just about anything…**

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"Your slightest look will easily enclose me, Though i have always closed myself as fingers, you always open petal by petal myself as Spring opens, (touching, skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose." ~ e.e. cummings

* * *

The day had been endless. A seemingly never-ending parade of aggravation and irritation that had worn down her body and her mind down to the point of collapse; by the time Talia stepped out of her chauffeured town car at her condo she barely had the energy to make it up the elevator ride to her penthouse apartment. With a sigh she moved into the luxurious space, closing the door and dropping her coat on the floor with little regard for where it landed. A frown flashed across her tired face, she should be able to relax now, she was at home, but the tension refused to leave her. The truth was easily deduced with one look around at the obnoxiously modern furnishings and unabashed show of wealth, it all spoke clearly that this wasn't her home- it was _Miranda's._

She took a passing look out of the floor to ceiling windows at the Gotham skyline before continuing into her kitchen dropping off her shoes and her suit coat in more of the same haphazard manner. Talia sighed as she mechanically grabbed a bottle of far too expensive wine and a glass, walking into the decadent expanse of the bathroom. She flipped the switch and the artificial light softly flooded the room. If there was one place in this gilded cage she enjoyed and could be calm, it was in here. A beautiful affair of shiny Italian marble, a massive glass shower lined one wall and against the other in front of a gigantic window that over looked the bay sat an antique Victorian era claw foot tub big enough for two.

Talia gently placed her wine bottle and glass on the floor before she leaned over to turn on the water, turning up the temperature until it was scalding hot. She rubbed her eyes tiredly as suddenly John Daggett's annoying voice crept into the back of her mind, the way she had to stifle everything about herself in dealing with that man on a daily basis was starting to wear her down. That insignificant little man provoked such a hurricane in her that it took every piece of her strength to keep from reaching across her desk and slitting his throat there in the middle of her office. She allowed herself the little fantasy, knowing that it was all it could be for the moment, and while the act would prove immensely gratifying there was no room for it in the plan.

There seemed little room for anything that wasn't related to the goddamn plan lately. It had been nearly a week since she had seen Bane last, and even longer since they had spent any substantial time alone with each other. Interludes had been scheduled when time allowed and while she had never felt anything but sheer pleasure when he was inside her, a quick fuck while they were both fully dressed against a dirty brick wall in a back alley did little to satisfy her itch. A wistful smile spread across her face as she recalled their reunion so many years ago and the frenzied maelstrom of want and need they had shared in the Russian wilderness; it had been nearly a week before he let her leave his sight for more than five minutes and even longer before she was able to walk without a continual reminder of his desire for her. Oh, but the pain had been worth it.

She reached behind the tub to retrieve small indigo colored glass vial filled with oil pouring a healthy dose of it into the steaming water, breathing in deeply as an incredible release of fragrance perfumed the bathroom. The oil had been a gift from her friend some time ago; it was made from the rare blue flower that grew along the slopes of the mountain in Nepal where the League of Shadows made its home; it was an odd little plant prized for its incredibly intense effect on the human body. While breathing in the smoke as it burned produced panic inducing hallucinations, soaking in the essential oil created an unparalleled feeling of calm and relaxation. And though she generally avoided anything that dulled her sharp senses, tonight was going to have to be an exception. Stripping off the last vestiges of Miranda Tate and her fake life, Talia shed her remaining garments to the floor before stepping into the bath's warm embrace.

* * *

As the water lapped pleasantly against her tired body she took a deep breath in and out, casting away the stress and aggravation of her day. With a smile she reached out and poured herself a much too big glass of Merlot before lying back against the tub and staring out the window at the darkened city. She sipped at her wine as the oil began to work its magic, the swirl of thoughts in her head began to slow and for a small moment she was able to forget about the stress of her double life and the unimaginable pressure she put on herself to finish her father's work. She was able to simply be a woman enjoying a much needed soak after a very long day. Her eyes slid shut and she was just about to doze off, perfectly content when the shrill ring of her phone echoed throughout the apartment.

She let the answering machine pick it up; there was nothing, aside from something destroying her fusion reactor that was going to make her get up from this bath. A moment later Frankie's voice spilled from the speaker, "Miranda, its Sabine- I just wanted to let you know that I ran into an associate of ours this evening. It appears the meeting that you had set for Wednesday evening is going to need to be rescheduled to tomorrow night. Apparently there was an unforeseen need to leave the country and he did not want to depart before certain issues were given _due_ consideration and attention. I will talk to you in the morning, bye." Talia laughed aloud at the sarcasm in the girl's tone though quickly began to wonder what was sending Bane out of the country so quickly. Any apprehension or nervousness faded away for a moment at the realization that she would be able to see him tomorrow.

A sigh escaped her lips as she absently traced a finger along her throat, the subtle scrape of her nail against the skin set a trail of goosebumps rising in its wake. At the mere thought of him, her body responded instantly, despite the warm bath and the medicinal oil it was now coiled tightly with a tension that would not let go- and how desperately she needed a release. Talia touched her neck again, this time tracing the sharp line of her collarbone before she moved lower, arching her back up to push her breasts out of the warm water, gasping as the contact with the cool air instantly hardened her nipples. She bit her lip as the gentle touch of her trailing fingers against the sensitive peaks sent a small wave of teasing awakening rolling down her spine to pool between her legs. Her thighs squeezed together instinctively at the blissful tingling, the further stimulation making her moan out loud. It had been so long since she felt like this.

Her forgotten wine glass suddenly slipped from her numb hand and Talia ignored it as it bounced off the cream colored rug sending a puddle of deep red cascading across the floor. Instead she moved her now empty hand into the warm water, skimming across the soft skin of her stomach before finally moving it lower; through the patch of silky hair before threading her slender fingers between the petal soft folds. A jolt of pure pleasure shocked through her body as she slowly began to tease herself, the firm strokes against her clit aided by the slick slide of her arousal and the oil saturated bathwater. Her eyes closed in ecstasy as she leaned her head back against the cool porcelain of the tub the other hand moving to knead her now sensitive breasts. She couldn't stop the endless stream of moans and cries that began to echo louder and louder through the quiet apartment as her hands moved faster and harder- it _had_ been too long and god she needed this. All of the tension in her body built to the point of breaking, arching her back as it drew as tight as a bow string, she was so close to utter bliss.

Suddenly she froze with a gasp, her hands trembling with adrenaline as her hardwired instinct kicked in-she wasn't alone anymore. Just as she was going to move to the knife hidden beneath the lip of the tub, her ears picked up an unmistakably mechanical deep, rhythmic breath. He was here, the realization alone almost set her crashing into orgasm. If it was possible her already racing heart began to pound harder in her chest. Talia licked her lips slowly and tried to find her voice as she kept her eyes closed and opened her legs wider, letting a finger slide deep inside, knowing very well that he had a full view of what she was doing- and the realization he'd been watching her for sometime. "Are you just going to stand there and watch, my friend?" The rasping, desperate tone surprised even her.

There was no reply. But she could literally feel him as he crossed the room to kneel at the side of the tub; her body screamed for release, but she refused to look. Tonight she would savor their intimacy in a way she hadn't since those first nights in her father's temple so long ago. His warm breath caressed the side of her face as his rough fingertips traced the bridge of her nose slowly moving down across her parted lips. Talia couldn't help the urge to capture one of his thick fingers with her tongue, swirling around it slowly before drawing it into her mouth, mimicking the same action that her own fingers were doing below. A pained groan slipped from beneath the mask and she slowly opened her eyes unable to suppress the need to see his dark eyes and the unabashed want she knew would be reflected in them.

She wasn't disappointed. She'd seen him look at her with passion before- but tonight he looked absolutely ravenous. "Join me," she commanded with a husky whisper. He stripped out of his clothes with an enthusiasm that had her smiling. She certainly wasn't the only one who had missed their time together. Talia shifted as the massive man settled into the bath behind her, sending a wave of warm water crashing over the rim. Between that and the wine, her housekeeper was going to wonder just what had happened to prim and proper Miranda Tate in her bathroom.

She gasped as his large hands wrapped around her body, pulling her flush with him. "How many times have I told you, little one…" His rumbling voice vibrated through his muscular chest and into her already heated body as one arm banded across her breasts holding her still, while the other hand parted her thighs roughly before teasing her opening with a slow quirk of his finger, "No hands but mine will ever touch you." Talia rolled her hips in frustration trying to get him further inside her, but he refused to budge; his finger continued its leisurely pace, rubbing up and down the slick skin making sure to gently flick the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex, "Have you, _forgotten_ this?"

* * *

He was torturing her. And her body was on fire. "No!" She whimpered loudly as she tried to close her legs together to feel any sort of friction against her now aching core, "Please touch me." She reached behind her blindly with her only free arm to wrap it around the strong column of his neck. Her body arched again as another shock of sensation assaulted her at his casual motion, a groan of agony ripped from her throat, "Bane, please!" It was the only thing she knew she would always have to exercise over him, no matter how easily he could dominate her physically; he would always yield to her every desire. At her wish he slid in two impossibly large fingers, expertly curling them forward to hit the soft patch of skin inside her that made her scream.

It was too much and not enough at the same time; Talia squirmed restlessly as his hand stroked her, hitting everything perfectly but still failing to push her over the edge. The answer eventually came to her muddled mind, as if her brain had finally knew what her body really craved. It was impossible to let go on his hands when the hard line of his flawless erection pressed tightly against her backside- it was just too much of a delicious distraction. "I need you…" She whispered, turning her head to stare into his fiery eyes, her voice taking on more power as she demanded her desires. "Fill me."

He needed no other command.

Bane stood up, rising from the water while lifting her into his arms; Talia gasped at the cool air that hit her dripping wet body. He maneuvered them out of the bathroom and moved towards her bedroom, it was a distance of no more than fifty feet, but to her overheated body it felt like miles. She wanted him and she wanted him _now_. With almost flawless grace she grabbed her arms around his neck before kicking her legs out of his grasp, wrapping her them tightly around his waist and using the blessedly slick oil covering their bodies to slide up and take his shaft completely in one smooth movement. As it always did, their joining tore a loud groan of pleasure from both of them and he immediately stopped walking to drop to his knees, laying her down gently on the soft carpet of her hallway before grabbing hold of her thighs and sliding into her again.

Yes. This was what she had been craving. What her body had been aching for, what it had been craving for weeks as they both played their dutiful roles in fulfillment of her father's destiny. Talia tried to muffle her shrieks as he continued to assault her body with absolute euphoria with each punishing thrust. She wanted to make it last, to feel this sensation of complete fullness forever, but her exhausted body had reached its limit, bringing her to the edge in only minutes. Her orgasm hit her with the force of a sledgehammer, her back arching wildly as she clawed at his arms, his name ripped from her gut with a vicious scream. He slowed his movements waiting for her to come down and be still before lowering his body down over hers, holding her impossibly close as he picked up speed once again, using the tremors that wracked her inner muscles to literally pull the release from his body with ruthless efficiency.

Utterly spent he rolled easily onto his back and pulled her on top of his chest, still heaving from exertion. Talia smiled and placed a gentle kiss against his still damp flesh, "I am sorry I couldn't wait for the bed."

"Do not apologize, I enjoyed the surprise." Bane chuckled lightly, the mask making his laughter sound so impossibly rich. "I had intended to brief you on recent developments when I arrived, you can imagine my shock at discovering your choice of evening _activities_."

"A hard day," She explained twisting her body around so she could rest her chin on her crossed arms. A satisfied smile stretched across her lips, "Did you enjoy the show?"

"Lovely," He whispered, cupping the side of her face and threading his hands into her hair, his eyes glazing over as the embers of passion began to stir again in their depths, "So very, very lovely."

* * *

The phone rang obscenely early at Miranda Tate's office, Frankie shook the exhaustion out of her voice before answering before the third ring slipping into her faux persona with alarming ease. "Miranda Tate's office, how may I help you?"

"Sabine, this is Miranda," Talia couldn't keep the smile off of her face as she continued with a noticeably fake note of 'sickness' in her voice, "I'm afraid I am not going to make it in today. Please reschedule all my meetings for tomorrow."

"All of them?" She questioned slyly.

"All but one, I will handle that myself." Talia admitted with a laugh. "Have a good day, my friend."

Frankie shook her head and hung up the phone, so her boss was going to spend the whole day spread out in front of her fireplace- must be nice. An odd feeling of jealousy churned in her stomach before she instantly shut it down. It would not do to bring her emotions into this, not now. The phone rang again and she glanced down at the caller ID, _Daggett Enterprises_, "Oh for fuck's sake." She groaned out loud before picking up the phone, this was going to be a long damn day.

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**Hope you enjoyed…until next time**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: So here we are again! Yay! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed and faved...I am so in your debt.  
**

**This scene is a bit of juicy filler that follows our last scene- pieces are starting to move and the plan is about to commence…schemers : ) **

**So I decided to take a little break from what Bane and Talia were 'up to' in an attempt to get into the heads of the two people that hang out with them the most…other than each other that is…and also because well, Barsad the poor guy, he needs some attention.**

**I also owe a huge wonderful thank you to 'leave your sanity at the door' who sent me some awesomeness that I incorporated into the last section of the story. How easy it is to weave such talented prose in with your own. So thanks kiddo, you are aHmazing. ; )**

**Still own nothing, but my thoughts and the calm before the angsty storm!**

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"You can close your eyes to the things you do not want to see, but you cannot close your heart to the things you do not want to feel." ~ Tabitha Suzma

* * *

"Yes Mr. Fox, I will make sure to give her your well wishes, but I think Miranda is just a bit worn down lately, as we all have been." Franziska smiled pleasantly at the gentle grey haired Chairman of the Board who sat comfortably across from her.

He nodded sagely and scribbled a few things down in the ever present black ledger he always carried with him. "You know, I don't think you and I have ever really met Ms. Borchert."

She was absolutely exhausted and now this man wanted to know her life story? Frankie shrugged her shoulders casually not losing the calm facade she wore in the office, "What is there to know about me, Mr. Fox? I have known and worked for Miranda for many years and intend to do so until she tells me that I am no longer needed. Oh, and my first name is Sabine, there you go."

He responded to her clinical answer with a very small chuckle, sensing that the conversation had finally reached its end. "Well Sabine, from what I've seen you are a very proficient and loyal employee, and I certainly hope that you will continue to be needed by Ms. Tate."

A smile slid slowly across her face, "I am sure there are a few things left that she will need my assistance with before the end."

Lucius rose to his feet slowly and said his goodbyes requesting an appointment with Miranda the following morning at ten to address her plans for another fundraiser for the Clean Energy Project. Frankie saw him out of the office with more sweet banter before closing the door behind him, a with a quick glance at the clock she rationalized that four was an appropriate time to end her ridiculous day.

* * *

There was something about being alone in a big city that always made Frankie feel safe; the anonymity that would make lesser people scared somehow had always given her strength. If there had been one constant in her life it was that the only person she had ever relied upon was herself. Talia had been a generous mistress that had often seen to her well being over the years- but Frankie knew better than to think she called her _friend_ and truly meant it. There was only one person that filled up her mind and her soul and in comparison to Bane, Frankie knew that she was little more than a long term employee.

A frown suddenly accompanied a feeling that she was not all together familiar with- it felt suspiciously like loneliness.

She tried to dismiss it as fast as it rose up, reminding herself that she was in the service of a powerful woman who demanded absolute loyalty and subjugation, a woman that she had sworn fealty to long ago. The same woman who had no doubt spent the entire day being absolutely worshiped and ravished at the hands of her lover; the voice in her head was now speaking the thoughts that her mouth would never say out loud. Why was it that Talia could feel that way, but she was denied?

When Ra's al Ghul's grand plans came to fruition they all had the distinct possibility of perishing in a nuclear hell fire, and she would die as she had lived- alone. Maybe it was this stark and pathetic realization that finally set her mind on a decision that would follow her for the rest of her time in Gotham. Or maybe it was just a moment's whim taken by a hungry stressed out soul who wanted to ease the same problems in someone else; either way she found herself getting take out from the only Armenian restaurant in Old Town.

She doubted that while Bane had spent the day with her mistress, his second in command had even bothered to have a hot meal; ever the faithful servant. The enigmatic sniper revealed so very little to those around him, though she had managed to get some information over the years. Barsad was from Kosovo; he'd told her the story a long time ago as she sat confined, angry and freezing cold in a nondescript government building- how he had been trained as a sniper as only a boy and enlisted in the bloody war that would define his small country. His entire family had been killed by the time he was sixteen, and when he had met Bane at twenty he was looking to serve something greater than himself. It was heart wrenching- and so familiar.

At first Frankie could think of nothing but her own childhood. She was orphaned in East Berlin in 1989, right before the wall fell; her father had been a rebel against the communist government. In a moment that still played behind her eyes at night like a terrible movie, she remembered the night that the Stasi Officers came to her home and took her father, mother and brother. Her mother, thinking only of her safety made her hide in a small wooden firebox next to the stove. Frankie could still hear the gunshots, the loud thud of their bodies hitting the cold pavement…and the terrible silence that followed. The unfathomable realization of a wide eyed ten year old who climbed out of her hiding spot to discover that her life was over. That all who had ever loved her were gone-forever.

Trying to shake the melancholy thoughts, she effortlessly climbed to the top of a rather nondescript brick building not too far from the shit hole that Selena Kyle called home. Sure enough, he was sitting on the corner of the roof looking out over the city, with nothing but his .50 caliber Barrett M82 sniper rifle for company. Frankie didn't even make it half way to him before he noticed her footsteps, "What brings you out tonight?"

She chuckled in spite of herself, apparently still not smooth enough to slip unnoticed by a member of the League, "Am I still that loud?"

Barsad hung his head in a quiet laugh, before turning to her with a rare smile in his sad blue eyes, "No, actually you were silent this time. It was the smell of the lamb _khorovats _that got my attention."

Frankie crossed the roof and crouched down next to his perch. "Well that is good to know. It was beginning to feel like I would never get it right." She grabbed her small backpack off her shoulders and pulled out a few brown bags. As soon as she opened them the smell of succulent herbs and meat permeated the cool air around them. "I wasn't sure what you liked to eat. So I figured that lamb and bread would be a pretty safe guess."

He gently took the bags and tore off a piece of warm lavash bread and grabbed a hunk of the fragrant meat, digging in heartily. She said nothing as he ate quickly, barely taking the time to chew, wondering absently as she enjoyed her nine dollar latte and fifteen dollar salad at lunch today just how long in had been since he had enjoyed the comfort of a nice meal at a clean table. Whatever appetite she may have had lingering quickly disappeared.

"Are you hungry?" He asked quietly, shaking her from her sad musings.

"No," She answered honestly tucking wayward strand of long blonde hair behind her ear, "I've had plenty to eat today, this is for you to enjoy." Frankie tried to ignore the smile on his face, or the way that he meticulously devoured the entire contents of the bag. She didn't dare note the way that the grease had left a shine on his lips. "Did I guess right?"

Barsad wiped his mouth on his sleeve, nodding enthusiastically his eyes remaining on the rifle and the ground below, "Definitely. Thank you so much Franziska, you did not have to do this."

Her throat felt uncharacteristically tight. She'd been attacked before and had felt a hand constricting it with malice, choking out her life; but this was so disturbingly different- the distress was actually enjoyable. "I brought dessert." Was all she managed to finally bark out loud, she cursed her stupidity; tomorrow morning she was going to have a long talk with Talia, this knowledge of her intimacy with Bane was beginning to become too much to bear- it was starting to consume _her_. Dumbly she managed to rummage in her bag to find a small package of rosewater flavored Turkish Delight, stuffing a piece of the sweet, sticky candy into her mouth before she said anything else foolish.

He, on the other hand, reverently took a piece, savoring it bite by bite. As if he had never enjoyed anything in this world so wonderful. Frankie felt almost sick, her heart was pounding and her hands were trembling uncontrollably; she needed to leave- now, she needed to retreat back to her sanctuary, because as false and disgusting as it was it felt far safer than being here. She was just about to stand up and walk away when his hand suddenly reached up to touch the side of her mouth, gently swiping his thumb against her lip. "You had sugar, just there." He added unnecessarily.

The delicate touch was her undoing- Frankie leaned forward out of pure instinct, brushing her lips softly against his. When he gave no response she pulled away mortified with her behavior, "I…I…forgive me."

Barsad said nothing, instead his hands moved to cup her face pulling her towards him capturing her lips in an incredibly slow kiss. His mouth opened ever so slightly and she responded in kind, gasping as his tongue slid in, brushing against hers. She couldn't think straight as he continued his leisurely exploration, the only realization her hormone addled mind could manage was that he tasted delicious, a mixture of savory spices and sweet sugar and she couldn't get enough of it. He finally pulled away breathless, resting his forehead against hers, his striking eyes closed.

"We can't do this." Frankie mumbled sadly, "There is no room for it in our plan."

He blinked slowly, watching as the woman's normally cold eyes watered. "Please do not speak about that tonight." He kissed below her eye, catching a stray tear that finally escaped her well forged defenses. "I leave with Bane in the morning Franziska, and when we return with Pavel there will be no turning back." A rough palm moved to cup her face again his voice dropping to a husky, rough whisper, "I have sworn to follow my brother to the end, and I will gladly give my life for the cause; but please, before I go I have only one request."

"Anything," She breathed desperately.

"Let me have you," his throat bobbed up and down, and for a moment it looked as if sadness would take him as well. "I have watched and wanted you for so very long, give me this and I can die a happy man." Her hardened heart broke into pieces at his words; she could not deny his humble request. The beautiful blonde grabbed his face and kissed him hard; ignoring the fact that she had given him no spoken answer. She was so tired of talking, tired of suffocating under a false front and denying her body simple pleasures that any free woman should be able to enjoy. Words could wait, tomorrow would come too soon and they would part ways to resume their roles as devoted servants, but right now they would serve only each other.

* * *

Frankie shivered against the cold and the surge of energy that flowed ceaselessly through her body at the realization of what they were about to do. There was no time to savor and enjoy one another the way that she would have liked, the way that they both deserved; instead she was left lying on a hard, uncomfortable roof top, with only his large red scarf to save her skin from being scraped raw. His mouth was soft, though his kisses were far deeper and his moans more lustful than she ever would have imagined the reserved, modest man capable of. They both fumbled desperately with the numerous articles of clothing that encumbered their goal; he stripped off his heavy vest and unfastened his belted cargo pants as she squirmed out of her skin tight jeans leaving them pooled at one ankle, only bothering to free what was absolutely necessary.

Barsad leaned over her body again, one hand caressing her face while the other slowly trailed down her body reaching inside his clothes to guide himself to her body; he took her in one deep continuous push, as meticulous and effective as he did everything else. She was blessedly wet and ready, but it had been _ages_ since she'd been penetrated and she groaned at the mild discomfort. He paused for a moment, his breathing already starting to increase, a note of concern of his handsome face. But Frankie was having none of it, there was no time to worry about pain tonight, she rolled her hips against him hard, urging him to continue. Thankfully he needed no other persuasion.

His movements were steady and strong, while his eyes remained locked onto hers- as if cataloging every detail and minute expression. Frankie never wavered in her stare, letting him know everything she was thinking and feeling without saying a word- that closeness and trust like this had been a rarity in her guarded life and that somehow being here with him on a dirty asphalt roof, with no skin touching other than where they were intimately joined, was more erotic than anything they could have experienced rolling around on soft cotton sheets in her million dollar high rise apartment. Her moans and his low grunts, the only conversation that either needed to express their years of pent up emotions. Minutes later she could feel his rhythm begin to falter and her own body's tense anticipation of release. His hands moved to grab hers, entwining their fingers as his forehead dropped to hers, their eyes remaining open until the exquisite pleasure of orgasm closed them.

It was over far too soon. And neither spoke as they quickly dressed once again. The pleasurable high was fading fast, being replaced by something that felt awkward, guilt perhaps, that they had taken something for themselves without thinking about their master's wishes. Barsad stood slowly and stared out at the cityscape his voice very quiet, "I do not know how, or what, to say."

Frankie got to her feet, taking the patch of red fabric with her. "You don't have to say anything." She stepped close to him again, before taking one last slow, deep kiss. "I don't need it." She handed him the scarf with a small smile, "All I ask is that when you wear this, no matter where you are- that you think of me."

He took it and immediately wound it around his neck, taking the time to savor the smell of her soft skin that still permeated the garment. "I will think of nothing else until I see you again."

She nodded and picked up her pack, leaving him to his silent perch high above the doomed city as she disappeared over the side of the wall she mumbled quietly. "Good luck."

* * *

The walk back to her apartment was numb; Frankie's mind was cleared of everything save the feeling of moisture that still clung to the insides of her thighs and the weighty realization that came with it. She had crossed a line and seduced a member of the League without the Demonhead's permission. She did not want to think what Talia would do to them if she found out or worse yet, what Bane could be persuaded to do at her slightest command. There could be nothing that got in the way of the plan- and she knew then that no matter how much she wanted it, this could never happen again.

* * *

Across town Talia sighed pleasantly as she leaned into the warm, broad back of her protector as he drove them through town. After spending the entire day blissfully wrapped up in nothing but each other, Bane had offered to take her out on a ride to show her one of the many sites they had been working on. She readily accepted knowing that they were soon going to be separated again for an extended period of time, and quite simply she wasn't ready to let go yet.

Concealed completely beneath leathers and full face helmets, no one knew who they were; just two nameless people on a motorcycle, zooming around the city at breakneck speed. The wind tore against them as the BMW F800 GS traveled on near empty stretches and weaved in and out of traffic; sound, reduced to nothing but engine's roars and the merciless whoosh of air against the Kevlar-reinforced fiberglass. It was just the two of them, and the rush, exploring the vast networks of an impressive city that would soon be dust.

It was late, and everything except them was still. They stopped on the city's outskirts, by one of Daggett Industries construction sites which backed onto an enclave of swanky high rises not too far from where Frankie was living, to stretch their legs a little and fully absorb the surroundings. She took a moment to gaze upwards, past the concrete and mortar to the empty black sky. Both the moon and stars had disappeared, having been suffocated by the blazing artificial light that polluted the air around them. It was nothing like the sky she had known as a child, in the darkness of the pit she had been able to see hundreds of stars through the small opening and thanks to the man next to her, she still remembered all of their names.

"Even the sky is dead here." She commented absently as he carefully tucked his helmet beneath his arm.

Bane nodded his agreement, touching her face softly; his restless hands showed the need that was still not sated within him, despite their time together today. "When this city is in ashes, the stars will return little one."

She turned to the construction site with its sole tenement to be demolished before being replaced by an upscale new one. For a long time it seemed the place had been forgotten and left to neglect and ruin, and she wondered, had Daggett not been so keen to plaster his name everywhere, if it would simply be left there, like the myriad of desolate buildings spotted around the city. Gotham sure liked to build things, but the same couldn't always be said for removing them when they were no longer needed. If they had, there would have been no reason for the League of Shadows to excise the rot and corruption in a blazing nuclear inferno. No reason for her father to have been murdered at the hands of a man who was a product of this pathetic and unworthy city.

A sly smile slid across her face as she knew that unlike everyone else, when _she_ and her partner came to leave this place, it would never be the same again. Talia's heart began to pound at the realization that tomorrow her plans would finally be set in motion, that this was the place where her wildest dreams would come true. She was finally here, and this was really happening, with her protector by her side once again. Everything around her life for the past eight years had been foreign and strange; all she needed do was catch her reflection to remind herself how far they had come to be here. Two people born and raised in the worst hell on Earth had risen from the depths of despair to the heights of success; a success neither would have been able to realize without each other.

It was time, and Gotham was theirs.

* * *

**So…what do you think? Where do we go now? Uh, oh…Bruce Wayne's due at a fundraiser anytime and Talia gets an idea that is going to sit REAL well with the others…not so much…**

**Reviews are always loved and appreciated.  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Okay, so here we are…this is like the calm before the storm… a bit of honest reflection before the TDKR begins. The events in this vignette immediately follow the capture of Dr. Pavel…**

**Some adultish material here…though if you have read the rest of my work…it is no different. Though I must say this was rather touching to write…but Bane and Talia needed it, after all there is some rather angsty rage on the horizon…**

**Thank you to all of the wonderful readers who have taken the time to review, favorite and follow…and one in particular who continues to inspire me to write more, and better, every day! Love you…super cereal. ; )**

* * *

"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars." Kahlil Gilbran

* * *

She was distracted- and painfully so.

Talia sat in the middle of the Wayne Enterprises quarterly Board of Director's meeting and couldn't recall even a single word or topic that Lucius had been discussing for the past forty-five minutes. It wasn't exactly a stunning example of Miranda Tate's intelligence or business acumen, and with the way that John Daggett had been staring at her from across the table, her sub-standard performance had not gone unnoticed. She smiled sweetly at him as her hand flexed tightly on her silver plated pen, this man's time was beyond borrowed at this point. But truthfully she couldn't help it, Bane had been gone for almost five months and she hadn't heard so much as a whisper from him. It was a reminder of those horrible days so long ago, after his excommunication from the League, and her body _ached_ for him.

Though it hadn't been necessary, they had purposely chosen this exile from one another; it was far safer for her to know only the very basic aspects of his plans. She had enough to deal with already as Miranda Tate, and he had assured her that it would be easier this way. Of course at the time they discussed it she had not exactly been in a state of mind conducive to decision making. Talia bit her lip as she remembered that selfish day the two of them had spent locked in her apartment before he left, for a few scant hours there had been nothing between them but a thick haze of all consuming need and raw animal passion; blush suffused her collar at a particularly searing memory.

* * *

_She was sprawled out on her stomach, hands grabbing fistfuls of plush down comforter as she tried in vain to hold her body up against his savage thrusts. She had always held her own in their lovemaking, and her protector, while inherently dominant in his nature usually allowed her some illusion of control- but not this time. He held her tightly, his strong hands encircling her hips as he lifted her body up and off the edge of the bed. Bane used his height as an advantage, keeping her knees from finding any leverage and leaving her dangling helplessly in the air. She was at his mercy, and he held nothing back; using the sharp angle of their bodies to penetrate her to the hilt before setting a punishing rhythm, each time driving deep enough to set off sparks behind her eyes. She was sobbing and delirious with bliss when she finally came crashing down into completion. Her throat was hoarse from a constant flow of screams and moans; for the first time since she'd taken on the facade of Miranda Tate she was actually thankful for the disgusting and opulent wealth, at least she didn't have any neighbors. _

_As she came down from the high, Bane flipped her over with ease and pulled her trembling body into his arms, slipping into her warmth again without missing a beat. She wrapped her legs around his waist tightly as his movements suddenly became slower, more focused; an incredible undulation that rocked his pelvis against hers with shocking pressure and amazing precision. She leaned her forehead against his, trying to focus her blurry, pleasure addled eyes, and when she finally caught his powerful stare- it took what was left of her breath away. Tears fell freely down her cheeks as she leaned in to kiss the unforgiving steel of his mask, her lips and tongue caressing the metal with the reverence and veneration she could only dream of giving to his lips. He shook with emotion at her tender display and his strong arms held her tighter as he took one last push, burying himself impossibly deep inside before finally releasing, her name a broken whisper behind the cage. They collapsed to the bed still joined, and she knew now, just as she had all those years ago, that only in his arms would she ever feel this sense of complete and utter peace. _

* * *

"Mr. Browning, would you review the profit and loss reports from the last quarter with the group?" Lucius' voice finally managed to shake her from her revelry. Talia took a deep breath to control the lump of emotion that suddenly tightened her chest with an almost suffocating pressure, and the cramp that formed hotly between her legs did not bear mentioning. She couldn't take much more of this. Blessedly, the meeting adjourned ten minutes later and she quickly gathered her things trying to leave the room as fast as possible, though not fast enough as Fox's calm voice floated over to her, "Miranda, do you have a moment?"

"Of course," She answered breathlessly, hoping the distress swirling in her mind wasn't readily apparent on her face. He gestured for them to move into his office, the older man's perceptive eyes keeping a watch on John Daggett as he stared at the two of them down with a shrewd look on his miserable face. She followed Fox into the large room and sat down in one of his antique, velvet chairs as he secured the double doors behind them. "What is this about?"

"I have the most uncomfortable feeling that our friend Mr. Daggett has ambitions beyond being the Chairman of the Board here at Wayne Enterprises." His voice took on a far shrewder tone in the absence of the others. "There are rumblings that he has ambitions to absorb this company."

Talia sat up straight reigning in her turbulent emotions, trying to play calm and naive, "But how would he do that?"

Lucius laughed, "It wouldn't be possible legally. Mr. Wayne owns the majority share of the company, and it would take selling those off to make it an option. But I am concerned that if there comes a time where something happens I need to know that I can hand the company over to a CEO that understands his vision."

Her mind began to race, this was it, and this mild mannered, soft spoken man was going to be the one to start the wheels moving in her favor. For a fleeting moment she actually felt sorry for him, that she was inevitably going to break the trust that he so readily bestowed upon her; that he would discover that this person who he had come to call a colleague and confidant, perhaps even a friend, was nothing but an imaginary decoy.

"I want you to be the one to do it, Miranda."

Those words hit her with a force she never could have expected. It was a moment of pure joy, finally it was all beginning- her father's destiny would be fulfilled. She tried to control the excitement in her voice as she replied evenly, "Mr. Fox, Lucius, I promise you that I will see to it that this company will leave Gotham the legacy that Mr. Wayne deserves."

He smiled warmly at her, taking her solemn vow at face value. "I have no doubt you will Ms. Tate, no doubt at all."

Talia excused herself soon after, the feeling of triumph literally making her feel almost giddy with excitement; she practically floated on a cloud back to her office. "Good Morning, Sabine." She sighed walking past her secretary. She did not miss the way the slump of the girl's shoulders instantly jerked at the sound of her voice. There had been something amiss with her long-term associate for the past few months, and though she couldn't put her finger on it, she was willing to bet that the normally stoic woman was hiding a secret.

"Good Morning," She finally answered quietly, spinning around in her leather chair with a sigh, a Fed-Ex envelope in her hand. "This just came for you, priority two day delivery from _Kazakhstan_." Her blue eyes met Talia's briefly before falling to the floor once again. There was no doubt that she was hiding something from her now, it was written all over her face and it was a look Talia knew very well. After all it had not been so terribly long ago that she herself had concealed her feelings for Bane from the ever scrutinizing gaze of her father. Frankie had fallen in love- now that was interesting.

Talia took the envelope gently, staring at her with a pointed glance. "Are you feeling well?" The tone in her voice alone was enough to announce a swift transition from calm Miranda Tate to the cruel face of the Demonhead. There was no room for disobedience or distraction from her plan and no one was above the penalty of falling under her blade, save him, and Frankie knew this well.

"I'm perfectly fine," Frankie mumbled, her gaze shifting up to meet Talia's again, a spark of defiance leaking back into her eyes. "I am just tired."

"Excellent." Talia answered turning abruptly and walking into her office, a snide grin lifting up the corner of her mouth. "I have a three o'clock meeting for the Clean Energy Fundraiser next month with John Magner and William Trask, please see to it that they have a warm cup of coffee waiting for them."

* * *

Talia closed the door to her office and tore open the envelope, smiling as she pulled out a flattened, dried flower and a single page torn out of a book. Two simple, unrelated items that to anyone else who may have intercepted the package would have seemed like nothing; but after five long months of separation, to Talia they meant everything. She blinked away the tears that began to fill her eyes, cognizant that Miranda Tate needed to remain pristine for many more hours. She put the blossom up to her nose and inhaled, enjoying the slightly alkaline scent, recognizing it immediately as a Kali Thistle- the League's blue flower. Absently she traced the toxic plant along her pink, painted lips as she examined the page; it had been haphazardly torn from an antique book of poetry, an excerpt from Alfred Lord Tennyson's 'In Memoriam'.

Bane, despite his brutish exterior, had always held a fondness for the written word, and poetry in particular. It had been one of the few things they had in the pit that brought them both a small measure of comfort. She had sat for long hours curled up in his lap as he'd read from a ragged anthology of classic works that the morphine addict doctor had given him. Even now, if she closed her eyes she could still recall the gentle timbre of his deep voice unencumbered by the mask, and the curve of his full lips as he smiled, reading to her in every language he knew- it had been so beautiful.

_Be near me when my light is low, _

_When the blood creeps, and the nerves prick _

_And tingle; and the heart is sick, _

_And all the wheels of Being slow. _

_Be near me when the sensuous frame _

_Is rack'd with pangs that conquer trust; _

_And Time, a maniac scattering dust, _

_And Life, a Fury slinging flame. _

_Be near me when my faith is dry, _

_And men the flies of latter spring, _

_That lay their eggs, and sting and sing _

_And weave their petty cells and die. _

_Be near me when I fade away, _

_To point the term of human strife, _

_And on the low dark verge of life _

_The twilight of eternal day. _

And there, at the bottom of the page, in the type of elegant scrawl that would have been more characteristic of an artist than a mercenary was one word- _tonight_.

* * *

Talia felt him the moment she stepped off of the elevator. She practically sprinted the length of the hallway and flung open her door, jumping into the dark room and completely ignoring every hardwired instinct in her body. There was a need driving her that overrode anything else her mind could conjure up. And though her own seeming disregard for her personal space and awareness was alarming enough, it was nothing compared to the sight that greeted her as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She froze in shock as she stared into her living room; there sleeping soundly, with his muddy combat boots on her $25,000 cream colored leather sofa, was Bane.

A genuine smile pulled at the corner of her mouth as she crept noiselessly towards his prone form; it had been so long since she had seen him slumber with such impunity. Perhaps harkening back to those early days after he had been rescued from the pit, when treating his injuries and controlling the agonizing pain left him in nothing more than a drug induced fugue. She began to kneel at his side when suddenly his hand flew out and grabbed the front of her coat, yanking her body down on top of his. "Your skills of stealth and deception are beginning to weaken, dear one." She could hear the smile in his worn voice as his arms moved to cradle her against his broad chest, a hand slipping into her hair and tangling into the pristine locks.

She laughed quietly as she snuggled into his warmth, placing a soft kiss on the exposed skin of his throat. "I would like to see you try to move in silence wearing this outfit."

"It was your scent," He answered vaguely as his fingers rubbed against her head in soothing circles. "I smelled you the moment you stepped off the elevator."

Talia smirked raising her head and catching his eyes in the darkness, she did not miss the unmistakable gleam of possessiveness and heat that he always had when looking at her. "I did not know you were a fan of Chanel No. 5, my friend."

He flexed his hand in her hair, sending a sharp jolt of delicious pain through her scalp as he pulled her face up to meet his, "I said your _scent_," he growled roughly through the mask, and she gasped from the aching pressure of his grip, "I have no care for the nauseating odor that woman wears."

_That woman_- he spoke as if Miranda Tate was her own person all together; someone completely foreign. With a wicked grin Talia snaked her hand down the front of his pants cupping him tightly through the rough fabric, immensely pleased when she found him already hard for her. "Then let's wash it away." She stood up languidly and began to shed her clothes as she walked toward her bathroom, throwing a beguiling look over her shoulder and curling her finger with a gentle quirk. "Come."

* * *

She'd managed to somehow strip completely bare by the time she made it to the bathroom, flipping on the light with an airy sigh and a mischievous smile, "Would you prefer me in the tub or the shower?" Talia turned around expecting at a least a playful retort from her friend, or best case scenario he'd forgo the reply and lunge at her taking her hard against the cool tile floor; but what she saw drained every ounce of lust from her body replacing it with concern.

He was exhausted, taking heavy shuffling steps that spoke of fatigue and despite the constant supply of analgesic through his mask- pain as well. She ran to him, anxiety written all over her face, "What is wrong? Are you hurt?"

Bane shook his head slowly unfastening his coat and chest armor, dropping that along with his black shirt on the ground. "I am fine, little one." Talia's eyes clouded with tears as she observed the angry purple bruises underneath his arms. Upon closer inspection she noticed that they circled the back of his shoulders as well, no doubt caused by a harness of some sort. And judging by the size and severity of the injury she was willing to bet that his massive weight had been suspended for an extended length of time. That sort of strain would have hurt a well man, but for someone with the damage Bane had to his spine, it must be excruciating.

He had endured pain and suffering for her- again.

She took a deep breath and helped him undress the rest of the way, trying to ignore the moisture that threatened to spill from her eyes at his discomfort. He reached for her and pulled her close, his fingers slowly stroking the skin on her stomach before starting to go lower. She tenderly took his wandering hand in hers, pulling it away before looking up into his red-rimmed eyes, a tear finally falling as she saw the dark circles underneath them, "No." He went rigid at her whispered rejection and Talia comforted him instantly, resting her palm gently on his warm chest to feel his heartbeat. Her eyes lowered as she spoke, noticing for the first time in all their years as lovers that he was too tired to even maintain his arousal. It cemented her resolve that tonight he would get the rest he deserved. "You are exhausted my friend, let me care for you- that is all the intimacy I desire today."

Much to her surprise Bane acquiesced to her wish, as he always did; letting her scrub him down in the shower as he rested heavily against the glass wall. Though she touched every single inch of his skin, there was absolutely nothing sexual about it, and yet the act was still one of the most breathtakingly satisfying experiences she had ever enjoyed with him. It was a true feeling of complete devotion, that for just once _she_ would be the one to watch over and protect _him_.

When it was all done, she reverently dried him with her ridiculously expensive cotton towels and led him to the sprawling expanse of her California king-sized bed. He crawled to the middle with little ceremony, taking a moment to sort out the numerous pillows and voluminous layers of blankets. "Such obscene decadence," he chuckled softly as he finally lay down, calling her to him with open arms. "How will you ever cope without it?"

Talia smiled as she climbed under the covers and cuddled into the crook of his arm, resting her head gently onto his chest, "Because I will have you to warm me." She answered quietly; surprised when instead of a reply she was met with silence- he was already sleeping. "Rest well my love," She mumbled, placing a chaste kiss against his warm skin before closing her own eyes and drifting off.

* * *

Frankie cast one last quick glance over her shoulder before slipping into the open manhole, landing in the darkness without making a noise. She pulled the hood of her black sweater further over her head in an attempt to completely cover her blonde hair. What was she doing here? It was a one way ticket to a cut throat or a shattered spine. There had been little doubt today when Talia looked at her that she knew she was hiding something, and with her plans so close to fruition she was going to become more paranoid and ruthless than ever. Yet somehow she couldn't bring herself to give a fuck what her mistress wanted. For the past five months she had been in a complete and utter stupor wanting nothing more than to see Barsad's thoughtful blue eyes. Frankie wasn't deluding herself to think that there could ever be anything between them but a few stolen moments, but if that was the case- she would take them whenever she could.

She finally came upon him in one of the tunnels, making sure to look over his shoulder as well, one couldn't be too careful with the League of Shadows around. There were no words exchanged as their lips met in a kiss filled with desperate loneliness, no declaration of love as their bodies hastily joined against the wall- there was nothing except the promise of this one stolen moment in the dark.

* * *

**Please, please let me know what you think! Until next time… 'Have we started a fire?'**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Ah, well here we are in the movie…I really wanted to give a plausible chain of events that happen behind the scenes of the wonder that is TDKR. So as the story proceeds I am mostly going to stay away from direct movie events, except for a couple of scenes that after watching them…oh my.**

**This vignette takes us from the Dent night extravaganza, to Miranda Tate's fundraiser and finishing after the seduction of Bruce Wayne…**

**Again, an amazing thank you to my muse, who with the aid of a little Matrix bug has proven to be such a wealth of ideas that this writer will never let it go…like ever.**

**Thank you to those who read review and favorite…you make my day. Oh and though I may have forgotten last chapter, I own nothing…not even Frankie…she owns herself…also extra kudos and Velveeta to those who pick up the few movie quotes that I have also shamelessly swiped…I don't own those either ; ) **

* * *

"We are not wounded so deeply when betrayed by the things we hope for as when betrayed by things we try our best to despise. In such betrayal comes the dagger in the back." ~ Yukio Mishima

* * *

"Shrimp ball?" Selena mumbled quietly, trying and failing to blend into the crowd. She'd been many things in her life, but having to scrape and whimper at the feet of these shallow, ignorant people literally as a servant, was just about the most demeaning. And if the lecherous look on the Congressman's face was any indication, this situation really had the potential to be horrific; thankfully the tray of hors d'oeuvres was quickly emptied and she was able to make a bee-line for the massive kitchen before he had a chance to say anything to her. She needed to hurry up and make her move on Wayne's safe soon, her pulse fluttered and her hands wrung a tea towel uncharacteristically nervous at the prospect of failing. It wasn't even Daggett that she was afraid of, that arrogant blowhard could be avoided easily; but she was scared absolutely shitless of crossing Franziska. The cold blonde seemed to be the type of woman that could follow you to the ends of the earth to exact her revenge; it definitely wasn't a situation she was looking to get into. She just wanted the program- then she'd be done with all of this.

"Ms. Patil, why are your people using the main staircase? And where's Mrs. Bolden?" The curt tone of Mr. Wayne's butler, Alfred cut through her jumbled thoughts; this was the moment she'd been waiting for.

"Umm, she's at the bar, can I help?"

* * *

Frankie stood beside Talia on the balcony overlooking the Clean Energy Fundraiser with a mild look of revulsion on her perfectly painted face. There was something to be said about her mistress having the foresight to make the event a masquerade; at least she was able to be miserable incognito. Her stomach churned with disgust, standing there trussed up in a bright red Prada dress with her long hair twisted into a tight up-do, god she felt like some sort of false idol- a complete betrayal of everything she had ever hoped to become. And for what? The woman she served willingly had all but disappeared, transformed into the person beside her- Miranda Tate and the Demonhead, there was almost nothing left of Talia. She glanced over to watch Talia's eyes hone in on the ridiculous cat burglar who was making a spectacle of herself dancing with Bruce Wayne in the middle of the dance floor like she was some sort of femme fatale. "You think she'd be less brazen considering the acquaintances she's made," Frankie scoffed angrily, her frustration leaking into her voice.

"It doesn't matter," Talia answered evenly a cruel smile curling the corner of her red lip. "She means nothing at all- its Wayne I am concerned about."

A confused look passed across Frankie's face, "What do you mean?"

Talia swept her long brown hair off her bare shoulder with a brusque toss of her head and a deep sigh, "I need to be certain that he trusts Miranda implicitly, I need him to be ready to give me everything when the time comes, and right now he barely knows _she_ exists."

"I don't see the issue, Fox is ready to hand you the company, and Wayne is expendable at this point. You don't need him." The blonde reasoned taking note at the way she was being ignored. Talia's eyes were sharply focused on the billionaire playboy who seemed aged far beyond his years, living a double life certainly took its toll on a person's soul- and standing here as Sabine Borchert and Miranda Tate, they knew this fact better than anyone.

Suddenly Talia grabbed her arm and spun her around, her blue eyes blazing with fury as she spoke in a hushed whisper, "When have I _ever_ given you the impression that I want your opinions on my plan? You are not my equal and you never will be." Frankie averted her eyes to the floor, trying to suppress the rage and indignation that flared up inside her at the vicious tone, when she hadn't said anything for another minute Talia continued, "Meet me in my apartment tonight at midnight, I have a task for you- do not be late." With an angry push she spun on her designer heels and stormed off down the hallway.

* * *

For the first time in a long time Talia felt anxious, perhaps even unsure of herself, she sipped a little too heavily on a glass of champagne that she'd taken from the fundraiser and tried to re-read the letter that she'd written. She'd finally made her decision- discovered the power play that would assure that she would hold the upper hand throughout the siege and destruction of Gotham. Lucius Fox would trust her implicitly without any work, she had already proved herself to him in the board room; but Bruce Wayne would take a more drastic act, something that she never would have thought herself capable of- she would seduce him. He was a broken lonely man, who had been unable to save his childhood love eight years ago; she had done enough research on Rachel Dawes to know that Miranda Tate and her unfailingly passionate drive to better the world would remind him of her. It was the perfect role to step into, one that would put her so close to him that he would not be able to see the knife coming that would stab him in the back. For her father's revenge she would bed his murderer.

But it wasn't thoughts of her father's retribution that caused her such anxiety- it was the realization that she was going to have to tell her protector that she was going to give herself, even if it was only her physical body, to another man. Talia's head pounded as she rationalized her decision, she knew that Bane would appreciate the logic, and no doubt in any other situation may have agreed that it was the best course of action- but when it came to their bond, she was not so sure.

'_No hands but mine will ever touch you…' _

The mere memory of his possessive growl sent chills racing down her spine. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, banishing away her fear- she needed to act now as the leader of The League of Shadows, to prove to her father once and for all that she was willing to sacrifice anything in order to bring balance again to the world. She was ready to stand up and take on the mantel of the Demonhead and finally become the heir that he had most desperately wanted. She looked down again at her written letter, hoping that it explained her situation in the most convincing way possible, that by reading this, her friend would know her motives and that she would have the opportunity to tell him face to face when the time came that she belonged to him alone.

_My dearest friend,_

_Our plan commences, and I find myself in the position to strike at our betrayer- to put myself so close to him that he will give me all I ask. It will not come easily, and I will offer up my body to cement this lie. Greatness always requires sacrifice, and for my father's destiny to be fulfilled we both must be willing to give anything to the cause. Please understand that I give nothing to this man, I cannot, because you possess all of me- always._

_Until we meet again, I remain most ardently yours._

_Talia _

Talia neatly folded the letter and placed the expensive stationary in a plain envelope, sealing it with a drop of crimson wax. She had dripped the last bit of it when she felt the air change around her, Frankie had finally arrived. "I need you to get a message to Bane tonight," She spoke without turning around.

"Whatever you need, Demonhead."

The deadpan tone of her voice did not go unnoticed. Talia turned around to meet the stare of her associate, her face had been washed of the garish make-up and in her cold blue eyes was a simmering fire that she hadn't seen in quite some time. "You are angry with me?" She asked with a playful smile.

"Why would I be?" Frankie mumbled sarcastically, speaking much more freely than she had as Sabine, her loyal secretary. "I am your humble servant."

Talia didn't respond, she merely stood up and crossed the room, keeping her eyes focused on the young woman, "It is very important that he gets this tonight. They hit the stock exchange tomorrow morning and I need to know that things will move the way I have planned." She handed off the letter as casually as possible, though it weighed nothing, the minute it left her possession she felt like she had handled a boulder. With a gentle hand she cupped Frankie's cheek, moving it until they were face to face, her steel blue eyes softened at the touch and Talia knew she still had her loyalty even if her admiration had faded. "Our plans cannot fail now; we have all come too far."

She nodded quietly, "I will do as you ask."

* * *

It hit her like a wave of unimaginable agony. She had_ betrayed_ him.

Talia sat up in the quiet, dark of Wayne manor; the only noise was the crackling fire. In the eerie orange glow of the flames it all came rushing back to her- she was naked on the floor wrapped up in a luxurious fur blanket in the house of her most hated enemy, an enemy she had willingly given herself to. Her heart suddenly lurched in her chest as she became aware of the wetness between her legs, a sensation of utter revulsion ripped through her. What had she done? She had sullied herself, _whored_ herself. How could she ever look at her beloved protector again, knowing that she had allowed another man to touch what belonged only to him? Talia didn't look back as she threw on her soaking wet clothes and ran out of the house into the pouring rain.

She must have looked like a mad woman as she tore into the opulent lobby of Miranda Tate's apartment building, her clothes were literally dripping water and her face was red and swollen from crying. She spoke to no one as she jumped into the elevator and made her way up to her penthouse prison; all the while she could still feel him all over her. She could still feel his lips on her face, his breathy groans in her ear, and the way he pumped into her body with a practiced arrogance, his ego and no doubt long list of conquests fueling his fluid movements. He may have hit every spot biologically necessary for pleasure, but it did absolutely nothing for her. For the first time in her life she had to concentrate to stay wet, to fake her loud moans and her orgasm. And for the first time a man had taken pleasure from her and given none in return.

Her skin was crawling, Talia ran into Miranda's apartment heading straight for the bathroom, and turning on the shower before grabbing the phone. Without a thought she dialed Frankie's number, the instant she picked up Talia couldn't hold back her sob, it strangled her voice and she hung up as she began to choke on her anguish without saying a word. She clawed at her clothes, ripping them off before jumping into the shower, curling into a ball and shaking under the scalding hot spray. She wanted the water to wash it all away, to have it burn and blister her flesh so she could peel away any place he had defiled her. She scrubbed her body with soap, washing between her legs over and over, until the soft skin was raw and aching. But no matter how red her arms and legs became she couldn't shake the feeling of violation, it was tattooed on her soul now. She was dirty; she had succumbed to the world of Miranda Tate and let herself be lost. Her father had been right, she was a simple child who had been raised in squalor and was unable to understand the world, she was no heir- she was nothing.

Talia had no idea how long she had been in the bathroom before she heard the quiet click of her door. A shadow moved across the wall, the footsteps were not readily heard, they would have been silent to the uninitiated- but not to her. Frankie walked into the bathroom and observed her through the frosted glass, "What happened?" She gasped opening up the shower door, shutting off the water and wrapping Talia's body in one of the voluminous towels. "Talia, what has happened?!"

She could hear the panic in her friend's tone, and Talia tried to stop her shaking body needing to regain her control. "I have done what I needed to." Frankie's face was twisted into a mask of utter confusion. She squared her shoulders and stood up from her pathetic position on the floor, "I found a way to control Wayne." Talia dried her body off, ignoring the blotchy red welts that covered her skin, and stood in front of Frankie with a triumphant look on her face. "I seduced him- I own him now, he will give Miranda whatever she needs."

The victorious smile and the haughtiness of her tone immediately faded as she looked at the absolute shock on the blonde's pretty face. Frankie stood slowly; her voice was nothing but a pained whisper. "How could you do that?"

"Do what?" Talia snapped. "I told you, my plan is now infallible, I have done what is necessary."

"How could you do that to him?" Frankie asked again this time moving away from Talia with a hand over her mouth. "How could you betray Bane, he loves you."

The question hit her like a red hot lash against her face; Talia froze, her chest squeezing tight at the mere mention of his name. "You have no right to talk about us." Fury flared up instantly at the thought that this insignificant woman was going to question her about her actions. "Who do you think you are?"

Frankie stood in the middle of the room, not backing down, "I know who I am." She ground out angrily, "I am the woman who has stood beside you and watched you rise to the heights of greatness and then throw it all away for a man who saw you as nothing more than a brood mare! A woman who helped you search the world for your lover, only for you to stab him in the back as part of your plan! Please, mistress, tell me who _you_ are- because I don't understand."

"Understand?" Talia hissed, her eyes fixing on the ornate bathtub and the knife that lay hidden under the rim. "How could you ever understand? Have you ever been a lover? Have you ever been half of a whole?" She advanced with smooth steps, completely unphased at her total nudity. "You think we _love _each other? How dare you cheapen it- he is my soul, my life, we are joined by a bond that no one can touch- every breath, every heartbeat- he owns it _all_." She backed the girl up against the smooth tile wall; keeping her cruel sapphire stare on her shocked face she placed her hands on either side of her head, pressing her body against hers. "We have been so close, so entwined we wear each other like a second skin- how could you understand that."

Frankie swallowed hard for a moment as she tried to keep in control of her body; the instinct to run had flared up with a vengeance. But suddenly from a part of her mind that she had thought long ago lost to her oath of obedience, a sense of indignation raged. "Perhaps I don't, because I know that I could never let another man's hands touch me." The words flew out of her mouth and she instantly regretted them- she'd finally let her little secret out of the bag.

"Oh, you think your little dalliance with the sniper is a love affair?" Talia sneered, her face inches from Frankie's. When she didn't reply, Talia lashed out with a hard backhand across her mouth, "Did you think I didn't know? That I am ignorant to where you sneak off to?" She hit her again and Frankie's cheek reddened with the impact but she still said nothing. "I own you," Talia growled, winding her hand tightly into her long blonde hair and yanking it hard. "You ask my permission before you _fuck_- do you understand me?" All of the self loathing in her body had turned into a white hot rage and she would punish the woman in front of her in place of dealing with the realization of her own betrayal.

Frankie's tongue moved across her teeth, feeling a gash in her lip and the slick coating of blood. She laughed sarcastically as she pulled against Talia's hand, relishing the pain in her hair, giving her the emotion and adrenaline she was going to need. "What are you going to do?" She questioned with a bloody smile, venom in her voice, "Excommunicate me? Kill me? Your father would be so proud of the way you think, _Miranda_." She barely missed the elbow that flew at her jaw, though it caught just enough to send her down to the floor. Frankie skidded across the wet marble tiles as Talia whipped around, grabbing her knife from its hiding place and coming at her full force, managing to sweep her legs out from underneath her with a savage kick to her knees. With a pained yelp Frankie crashed into the floor. Relying on instinct she kicked out her booted foot and caught her attacker in the soft skin of her vulnerable stomach. Talia fell back, landing hard on her backside, the air rushing out of her lungs in a gasp. She instantly jumped back to her feet and advanced again.

Red- Talia saw nothing but blinding red as she went at the woman with everything she had. Frankie had always been quick, but the extra layers of her clothes were proving to be her downfall. Grabbing the back of her leather coat, she flung her against the wall- satisfied as her head hit with a loud crack. Somehow Frankie managed to stay on her feet, shaking off the impact and moving toward the door, she was trying to run. "Why are you running?" Talia taunted, "I am sure Bane will be here any moment- we can see how he feels about you and your _lover_."

It was Frankie's turn to laugh, "Bane is gone." She did not miss the way Talia's eyes widened in shock before returning to her angry stare. "The useless cat-woman brought the Bat to him earlier, and he broke him- he left for the Pit _hours_ ago, looks like your seduction was pointless." She felt a feeling of freedom move through her- and finally after so long Frankie shed the oppressive, obedient cloak of Sabine for the last time and was reborn. "Oh, he didn't tell you- I can't imagine why."

Numbness suffused her limbs and Talia could do nothing but fall to her knees. He had left without telling her? Without coming to her? Her mind raced and the rage left her body, leaving it cold. "I am leaving." It took her a moment to even understand that Frankie had said anything, her eyes filled with anguished tears, and she looked up one more time to take in the visage of the blonde woman in ripped jeans and a leather jacket who now looked more than ever like the teenager she had met so many years ago. Her hand tightened on the hilt of her blade and the girl spoke one last time, a whisper that echoed one said long ago and just as finite, "Goodbye."

Talia nodded as she moved away without another word, leaving her alone again on the cold marble floor of Miranda Tate's opulent bathroom. She was alone; for the first time since she had risen from the pit as a child she was truly all alone, with no one to stop or ease the wave of grief and anguish as it consumed her.

* * *

**Oh, poor Talia…she's felt better…and she's about to feel worse…**

**Please leave a review in the little box….**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: We have crossed over into full on angst-ville, here : ) This little chapter is a really special one in that it was inspired directly from a scene in the movie…I recommend jumping over to youtube or putting in your TDKR dvd and skipping to the scene where Miranda Tate and Fox walk into the board room and see Bane, watch until he tells Pavel his kids are on the line…I honestly couldn't watch this scene without noticing this undercurrent of amazing tension between Bane and Talia…so this is what resulted.**

**Also this was a collaboration with 'leave your sanity at the door' who gave me some absolutely, insanely beautiful prose that I have weaved right in here. I am humbled and so honored to be able to create with something and someone so amazing. You are the Frankie to my Talia…wait, I wouldn't try to stab you in the bathroom, you want to be Barsad and I'll be Bane? That's safer : )**

**Once again, thank you to those who read, review, favorite and follow… I own nothing at all, but the twisted way I make Mr. Nolan's work fit my world…**

* * *

"Our integrity sells for so little, but it is all we really have. It is the very last inch of us, but within that inch, we are free." ~ V for Vendetta (film)

* * *

Talia stood in front of Miranda Tate's floor to ceiling window quietly staring out over the now black skyline, finally able to see the hundreds of stars that were normally banished by the city's garish synthetic light. It was a moment of triumph; the plan had begun flawlessly, with a sizable portion of Gotham, and most importantly the escape routes, having been reduced to dust. Virtually every cop in the city was now trapped underground. The bomb was primed, the citizens were terrified. She should have been elated. But she wasn't.

She closed her eyes and let out a slow trembling breath, before bringing the crystal tumbler full of clear liquid to her lips and taking a healthy swallow. And though the vodka burned her throat the whole way down, it did nothing to ease the unreserved and utter anguish that held her hostage, mind, body, and soul. The $800 Belvedere with its ornate Sine Labe Doli bottle seemed to mock her from the end table, after two glasses she wasn't the least bit drunk. Fury surged through her body, both at the alcohol's inability to numb her and the memory of her actions, and a frustrated scream tore from her throat as she picked it up and hurled it across the room. Even the bottle's subsequent smash brought her little satisfaction. From the corner of her eye she caught sight of the plush cream leather of her sofa, and the pain welled up, hot and fresh, in her gut again. He hadn't come to her.

Talia had fully expected that he would have been waiting for her when she returned from the startled wreckage of the board room. She envisioned walking into her lavish apartment to find him waiting on the couch once more, this time comfortably propped up against the arm, his legs splayed wide open in an overtly masculine show of power. Ready to claim what was rightfully his; to dominate her body over and over, until every last inch of her skin knew nothing but his touch once again. Instead there was nothing to greet her but darkness, and a quick check of the hour made her realize that this far past midnight there was no chance that he would show up at all.

The ache in her chest would not ease, and she knew that the only way she would ever be rid of it would be to go to him. _She_ needed to be the one to make the first move, as _she_ had been the one who was responsible for putting them in this tortured exile from one another. It was finally her turn after all these years and after all he had done, to prove her unyielding loyalty to _him_. Slowly she walked into the darkened bathroom and pulled off her clothes, turning on the water and standing in the shower, ignoring the cold spray that resulted from the lack of power in the building. She was determined to scrub every last bit of Miranda Tate from her body; she would go before him stripped down to nothing but Talia al Ghul. Her thoughts were racing and she tried to stem the tears that once again pricked her eyes at the heartbreaking realization that he may not want to see her. A cold shiver wracked her body as she remembered the events of the day.

* * *

It had been the first time they had laid eyes on one another in almost a week, since the night she had seduced Wayne and betrayed them both. There was nothing that could have prepared her for the moment she walked into the board room; mentally and physically her body was stunned with such force she could barely rationalize what she was seeing. He stood at the head of the table, tall, fierce and indomitable as ever, his hands curled into the lapels of his leather flak jacket in an unquestioned show of authority. Shame and unimaginable grief welled up in her soul as she recognized it was the same stance that her father had used countless times- and it fit him with such ease. Her protector _was_ the Demonhead. Bane was truly the heir that the League of Shadows deserved, and he'd taken up the mantel of Ra's al Ghul without destroying everything that he was. She was unworthy of him, and the icy glare he fixed her with the instant she met his eyes, told her all she needed to know about how he felt- and it broke her.

Talia felt a wave of nausea crash over her body, as his gaze held her pinned to the spot- she was his prisoner. The room began to spin and she had to focus with every ounce of her training to keep her face impassive, though the flash of her throat as she breathed and her raging pulse would be more than obvious to her protector. She half wondered if he was enjoying this, if torturing her was giving him satisfaction. Never had she ever been at his mercy, she had always been sacred- above his anger. It was a position that she'd held alone, well perhaps with Barsad, outside the realm of his cruelty and malice. But she had never given him a reason to feel hatred towards her, had she? And now that she had chosen to betray him with the very man who her father had chosen for her suitor all those years ago only made it all the more painful.

She deserved this. How could she have ever considered such a callous and degrading solution for her plan? Wasn't the daughter of the Demonhead above the role of a common harlot? Hadn't she long ago refused to be ruled by the whims and lust of men? She had left that in her lavish bedroom in Switzerland, the moment she escaped from her father's custody and went willingly to Bane in exile. She was so stupid.

"Where are you taking us?" Fox's voice suddenly floated over her shoulder, the old man's normally dulcet tone tinged with fear. Talia's throat tightened to the point of choking her as Bane began to stalk towards her, eyes never moving from her face, until he passed her by without a word.

Her eyes slid shut to hide the anguish as he moved away; yes, she deserved all of this and more.

Talia moved through the darkness of the armory and the tunnel towards the reactor room with numb feet, her gaze focused on the strong line of his shoulders. He never wavered for a moment, not even as the explosion sent the rest of them all ducking for cover- he remained straight and tall, as if nothing could hurt him. After all, she thought miserably, what was mere dynamite and shrapnel compared to the knife she'd personally stabbed into his heart.

It would take all three of the Board members to start the reactor. Talia tried to remain focused as Bane mounted the steps and typed the logon code that she had given him months ago onto the keypad, before he turned to Lucius with an impatient growl; "Turn it on." She knew the idealistic man would refuse the request, and in an instant Barsad had a gun drawn and Fredricks on his knees- she knew what she had to do.

Climbing those few steps was nothing short of complete and utter agony. She could feel him standing behind her, feel the heat that his body threw off; the unbearable tension between them was palpable. The urge to turn around and seek comfort in those strong arms - the only place she had ever felt safe - was overwhelming her body with each passing second. Her hand shook as she placed it on the smooth screen, turning away from him as soon as she was done and stumbling down back towards Fox. How she managed the walk, Talia would never know. Without thinking she turned around to cast him a look, her eyes silently pleading with him to understand how sorry she was, how _wrong_ she had been - hoping beyond all hope for any glimpse of the tenderness he held only for her - but there was nothing in his cold stare except seething fury.

Her eyes fell to the ground, completely defeated, and suddenly Frankie's voice crept into the corner of her mind; _'How could you do that to him?'_ She had to bite down hard onto the inside of her cheek to stop the pitiful cry from bubbling out of her mouth in a loud sob, as the voice continued again and again like a poisoned mantra- _How could you do that to him? How could you do that to him?_

_He loves you._

The entire process took no more than ten minutes, though for her exhausted and traumatized psyche it could have been hours. Try as she might Talia could not stop her eyes from searching him out, as if her physical body was drawn to him on such a primitive level that it had no concept of what had happened between them- it knew only what made it feel whole. Bane did not look at her again; instead, the moment the reactor came humming to life, he beckoned the brow beaten Doctor beside her to get to work, before turning back to them with a cock of his head and a derisive snarl in his voice; "Take them up to the surface, people of their _status_, deserve to witness the next era of Western Civilization." He finally cast her one last vicious, acerbic glance as Barsad's hand gently curled around her arm to lead her out of the room, and in that moment she wished the bomb would detonate, or that the quiet man next to her would shoot her in the head- anything to stop the pain, she couldn't do this anymore.

For the rest of the afternoon she had moved around like a stilted zombie, unable or unwilling to process what was going on around her. Somehow she had managed to hold it all together until she stepped back into the dark loneliness of Miranda Tate's apartment, but the minute she closed the door it all came crashing down around her. She sunk to her knees with a heart wrenching wail, letting the day's pent up hysteria take over her body, shaking it with violent sobs and a torrent of tears. She stayed like that for an hour, until the misery turned slowly to a toxic anger that began to pump through her veins; suddenly the decadence surrounding her needed to be ruined.

Like a wild animal, Talia had raged- destroying the furniture, tearing apart pillows, shredding drapes, shattering mirrors. Wanting once and for all to make Miranda Tate pay for all of the damage she had done to her soul over the past decade, to try to exorcise the demon from her body. She threw herself onto her massive bed and curled up into a ball as the torrent of emotion began to ebb, but the pain lingered on. She closed her eyes and covered them tightly with her hands- she couldn't be in this prison any longer. And not because it represented everything she hated, but rather because there was not a room or a surface in the apartment that they hadn't shared some form of intimacy- everywhere she looked it reminded her of him. Pressing her face to the sleek, softness of her sheets she thought of the marble floor, the wall, or to the pleasantly cool floor-to-ceiling windows, and instantly she was reminded of how her back or hands had been pressed against them as he thrust relentlessly into her, tearing gasps from her lungs and impassioned cries from her voice box.

He had done nothing but love her, always, and she had and jeopardized that love by sullying herself like some whore. She wasn't worthy of him, and neither could she blame him for reacting the way that he had today. In fact, she was surprised he hadn't done worse. Perhaps by going to him tonight, he would. No matter, though; she deserved it. It was the least she could do for a man who had given her his very life- the reciprocal act would only be fair.

* * *

Tears came to her eyes again as she ducked her head under the cold cascade of water, letting it wash away the last part of the memory. Talia shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, wrapping herself in a towel and drying off as best she could. She walked into the mess that was her bedroom, ignoring the clothes scattered everywhere and instead reaching into the bottom of her armoire, pulling out a simple pair of black cargo pants and a worn black tank top. It was the same outfit she'd worn when she found him in Russia, and if there was ever anything that could make her remember who she was, it would be wearing these. She dressed quickly, ignoring the fact that her hair was drying into a chaotic riot of curls and that her tired, tear swollen face desperately needed make-up. It didn't matter though; he wouldn't notice any of it.

She threw on a coat and tried to still her shaking hand as she reached for the door- she was completely drained, and the weight of the day's emotions was swiftly taking its toll. With a deep breath Talia pulled herself back to her center. She needed to go to him with a level head; she would not come before him as such a miserable wretch of a woman. Miranda Tate was dying with each passing minute and slowly she began to feel like herself again. She finally pulled open the door and disappeared into the hallway, leaving the ruin and betrayal of her alter ego behind her forever.

* * *

The make-shift headquarters of the League of Shadows had not been a place she had frequented very often; perhaps twice during the entire time she had been in Gotham. It had been understood that Miranda Tate was too conspicuous to risk having her seen near the underground tunnels. Absently she remembered that she had often sent Frankie to do a majority of her correspondence, and the thought of another casualty of her betrayal was too much to think about right now. Talia shook her head to clear her mind as she focused on the young Arabic man who walked in front of her in reverent silence with an M-16 rifle displayed proudly. He treated her as if she deserved respect, but at the moment she couldn't disagree more.

She wasn't the Demonhead- she didn't deserve her father's title or his legacy.

They wound their way through endless passages and tunnels, down dirty stairs, until finally she could hear the rush of the massive waterfall that careened through the main chamber. It was the only thing loud enough to drown out the roar of her heartbeat in her ears, and for the first time in so very long she was afraid. But it wasn't the thought of dying that frightened her- she had left that fear in the bottom of the pit so long ago. No, she was scared to death that she may have damaged the relationship with her protector to the point that it may never be salvaged - that she had caused him such deep and excruciating pain that not even the analgesic gas of his mask could spare him from it - and the notion he might have to endure such torture for five arduous long months until the bomb detonated, was the single most terrifying thing imaginable. And if, indeed, this proved to be the case, then she wanted to die- if only to spare him the agony.

Her palms broke out in a cold sweat as they entered his lair, passing the dozens of plastic crates that lined the concrete walls. Weaving through chains and avoiding the puddles of water, Talia counted the pillars until she knew she had finally reached the corner where he made his meager home. Her heart constricted as she examined his living space, completely devoid of any sort of comfort. The worn, old mattress that was his bed lay atop a pile of wooden boxes, hemmed in at the right and head by towering stacks of crates, and the end by a sturdy, monolith-like faro concrete wall, which gave way to a balcony of reinforced iron railings. Surgical lamps glared down unforgiving from their fixtures on overhead pipes and tubing, their harsh luminescence clashing with the relative softness of the high pressure sodium wall lights. The bedclothes consisted of two pillows; one a dingy gray and the other, a stunning creation of deep maroon, sumptuously embroidered in traditional Arabic style. The sheet and blankets were the shawls that Talia and her mother had worn in the pit, along with several others he had collected throughout their many travels; the same ones that she had spent so many hours entwined in with him, resting comfortably in front of a roaring fire, or thrashing around violently as they created one of their own.

It all stood in such stark contrast to the unabashed menagerie of opulence that was Miranda's bedroom, and a feeling of immense guilt gripped her again. If only for his own comfort, she had wanted for a moment to hole him up in her wealthy abode again, with its soft lighting, air conditioning, central heating, Egyptian cotton and plush rugs and refined fragrances – to let him rest longer than the few scant hours he'd enjoyed. But she immediately dismissed the thought; he wouldn't have wanted it. It wasn't so much that he rejected such trappings outright, but rather, he simply didn't care for anything superfluous. What disgusted him were the non essentials that populated wealthy society, and Miranda Tate's apartment, being the epitome of non-essential, would just grate on him unless he could find any sustainable use in its lavish accoutrements. She could have argued the functionality of the furniture for _certain _purposes, but besides that, no. There was nothing about his lifestyle that bothered him; he had told her on several occasions that the only thing he needed to bring him relief from the day was her. And right now she _needed_ him- no matter what happened, she needed to feel him near her again.

But he wasn't here.

Talia stooped down over the bed and picked up her mother's shawl, standing up straight and clutching the material in an untidy ball to her body, nuzzling the fabric in an attempt to get even the smallest bit of his scent. He'd kept the ragged blanket for two decades; a reminder of a promise he'd made to the prison's only female inmate. A promise that he'd had the strength and dedication never to break. A promise that he had fought suffered and bore lifelong scars for. A promise that she – whether as Talia al Ghul or Miranda Tate – had effectively spat in the face of.

So, in truth, she had let her mother down, too.

Talia felt a tear slide down her cheek as she gently fingered the worn brown material, a small cry falling from her lips as she took notice of a small tear in the fabric that had been lovingly patched. Bane had told her that it was her mother who taught him how to sew and crochet in the Pit. The woman had given him a skill in trade for food and other comforts that he was able to get free from his cell- things that she could only dream of getting herself. And it was this final, damning realization that finally killed her; in the most horrific hell on Earth, her mother had been able to survive and endure, never once resorting to selling her body.

What had she become?

She was so absorbed in her self-pity that she was oblivious to anything around her. The hard wired survival instinct she'd honed her whole life was completely null- if it wasn't, she would have easily heard the loud, booted steps that came up behind her. But instead Talia was left completely unprepared once again for what would meet her as a cold, scathing and yet so achingly familiar voice filled her ears.

"Far from the board room aren't you, Ms. _Tate_."

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**I know, I know, it just had to end there…honestly!**

**Reviews are so very appreciated!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Well…if we call the last chapter angst…this one is a bit of, well…umm…reconciliation. It goes without saying that there is definitely a bit of adult 'conversation' going on here. Though probably nothing less explicit than we are all dreaming up…or at least I have been…**

**This was a continuation of the last piece, so again it's a collaboration with 'leave your sanity at the door.' I really wouldn't have anything nearly as cool to write if it wasn't for my amusing and inspirational chit-chats with you. I'm super cereal, somewhere there is a padded cell and a restraining order from a certain British actor with our names written all over it. : )**

**I'd also like to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter- I really felt like I had a lot to live up to with this one…hopefully you all enjoy it. All of the response has been amazing and more of a confidence boost than you can ever know. The words keep me smiling… thank you, thank you! **

**Still own nothing at all…except my warped imagination…**

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"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not a mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition and of unspeakable love." ~ Washington Irving

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"_Far from the board room aren't you, Ms. _Tate_."_

At the familiar sound of his deep voice, Talia immediately froze- panic gripping her entire body in an icy wash of unreserved terror. Her hands were shaking as she wrung her mother's old shawl in her grip; but she couldn't stop the urge to turn around to face him, her body's instinct overriding her fear. The instant she spun around every emotion from their confrontation in the reactor room came crashing down on her again; seemingly increased tenfold- the anxiety, dread, shame, lust, and all encompassing guilt assailed her with punishing force.

Bane stood not ten feet away from her, his hands curled in the lapels of his leather flak coat- maintaining his distance, but sparing her none of the intensity in his burning gaze. She found herself rooted to the spot, a prisoner of his eyes once again.

He'd called her by Miranda's name- and Talia's heart ached at the obvious rejection, though it was readily apparent why he'd chosen the insult. Whether consciously or not, she had been playing the woman for so long that part of her had _become_ Miranda Tate; she had lost a bit of her soul to her- it was the only explanation for her behavior. There was no way that Talia al Ghul would have ever sunk so low as to think of using sex to manipulate and gain control. And Talia never would have been so stupid to think that her protector deserved nothing more than a foolish letter to explain away such a betrayal- worse yet, to think that he would have simply accepted it. No, Talia was above that, she was the daughter of the Demonhead and heir to the League of Shadows- she was a force to be reckoned with. But instead she had let Miranda take over and she'd had taken the easy way out. Now she was left to deal with the consequences. His ache was her fault- her hands were as dirty as the morphine addict doctor that had destroyed his spine, or the prisoners that had beat him half to death; what was worse is that he didn't have the chance to defend himself against her. He never saw the knife coming that walked up behind him stabbed him in the heart. She had been such a coward.

Talia's lip trembled as she tried to find her voice, "I…I…" It was as if her tongue had been paralyzed- swollen and poisoned with the fear that wracked her body. But this needed to be said, she needed to tell him this, she _owed_ him this. Taking a slow breath in, she squared off her shoulders and began again. "I am so sorry, whether you chose to believe me or not…you have no idea how sorry I am."

He moved so fast that she had no time to prepare; in less than the blink of an eye he had her by the wrists- tearing away her mother's shawl, throwing it back to the mattress and slamming her into the concrete pillar at the foot of the bed. Talia winced as her skull bounced off so hard it clacked her teeth together. It took her a second to regain her bearings, and when she did her heart kicked into overdrive; he was holding her so tightly she could feel the bones in her wrists begin to crack in protest- but the twinge was nothing compared to the blaze in his hazel eyes. He was breathing hard, so hard that she could feel the warm puffs of air escaping his mask as it huffed onto her cold skin; he was barely keeping his rage under control. In this moment he _was_ anger, he _was_ danger- his impermeable calm was gone and she was truly at his mercy. For the first time in her life Talia was _afraid_ of him.

Her wide blue eyes must have showed her horror, and she let out a shaking whimper- praying the burning tears wouldn't come. She didn't want to be weak, not now. But then she noticed it; deep in his stare, behind the white hot rage and fury- was pain. Raw, aching pain that she was responsible for causing, and in that discovery was her unmaking and her rebirth. Talia gritted her teeth and spoke clearly and with more conviction than she had in a very long time. "Miranda Tate is _dead_." She leaned into him letting her forehead touch his, her voice dropping to a desperate whisper, "And I am _yours_…I am Talia al Ghul and I am _yours, _always."

It was silent, as if he was processing her words, before his right hand let go of her wrist and suddenly moved to her throat. The warmth of his rough palm seared her skin as his fingers gripped tightly under the hinge of her jaw, pressing down on her windpipe with unbearable pressure. Somehow instead of terror, as the blood began to rush in her ears and blackness bled into the edge of her vision, Talia felt a massive weight fall from her shoulders; this felt right, here at his mercy- she felt such peace. And if he wanted to end her life now, she would let him. She would give herself to him entirely- because she was his…because she_ loved_ him and because without him she was nothing. Keeping her stare focused on his she arched her neck, baring more of her throat to his grip- submitting completely.

Heartbeats later – but heartbeats that seemed to span minutes - the agonizing brutality in his steadfast gaze wavered, cracked, shattered, and then fell... and rising in its place was the deepest, most sincere tenderness she had ever seen. It shattered her soul. The world spun beneath her feet.

And then his hands were at her back, her shoulders, behind her head, pulling her to him and holding her so impossibly close and tight she thought she might break. Her hands, too, clasped around him and gripped for dear life. Tears flowing freely, she buried her face in the rough material of his flak jacket, and sobbed like a child. His fingers began stroking her head in that same comforting manner they had done so long ago in the pit. "Please forgive me," She choked out, begging through her tears, "Please, please! I am dying without you."

Bane finally pulled away, taking her face in his large hands, so very gentle- any trace of anger or wrath was long gone. Talia broke again as she saw the tears in his reddened eyes, "I will never leave you again." She whispered the vow, leaning into him; letting her hands wander across the cold tubes of his mask, tracing the twisting lines that kept him forever hidden- before dipping her head and kissing him as slowly and urgently as she ever had. Talia used her tongue and her lips to tell him that though his mouth could never touch hers, she would never want another's. A soft groan filtered through the grating, and he drew a long breath as his hands smoothed down from her face to her shoulders, tracing the across the sides of her breasts and finally gripping her hips- painfully tight. The shadow of his massive frame so close to hers was beginning to take over her thoughts- she had been without him for what felt like an eternity, and all she wanted now was to feel him again.

He must have been able to sense her distress; his head moved to rest against hers softly as he finally spoke, "Would you prefer to take this to your bed?"

His tone was deep and thick, the need was palpable and Talia replied without thinking, "Whatever you want." The hands on her hips flexed at her answer, fingers digging in as he pulled her flush against him, pressing his growing arousal tight against her stomach.

"I'm asking _you_."

Sheer dominance dripped from his voice- and she could feel her body respond instantly, heat rolled across her skin before settling low in her abdomen. From the corner of her eye she caught a quick movement and suddenly the question became clear- they were standing amidst his soldiers, he was asking if she preferred their joining to be in private. The realization that they would be heard inflamed her passion, a rush of liquid heat surged to her core and she lifted up her head to take in his blistering eyes. "Here," She whispered, before swallowing down the moan that threatened to spill out, "Now." Talia's hands shook as she finally reached for him- running her palm hard down the bulge in his pants, tracing the hardness. "I want them to hear us; I want them to see us- see what you do to me- that you _own _me."

In seconds his hands were tearing her clothes from her body- and Talia didn't stop the noises that fell from her lips as his rough touch roamed across her skin. Finally she stood before him, completely stripped bare in more ways than one. An uncharacteristic wave of nerves tingled in her stomach, and she could feel the blush rise up and tinge her face pink- she felt like she had that first night she'd come to him, unsure of what to do and how to behave. He said nothing- merely backing up to the bare mattress and sitting down, his legs spread with a controlled arrogance before fixing her with an expectant tilt of his head, as if daring her to make good on her conviction.

It was all the confidence she needed; Talia dropped her hands to her side and arched her back gracefully- shivering as the cool air of the underground caressed her body, sending goosebumps across her flesh and hardening her nipples. She closed her eyes, listening to the waterfall to behind her and to the rhythm of his breathing; waiting patiently as the last bit of Miranda Tate evaporated from her psyche. Gone was the self-loathing and doubt- replaced with the unchallenged and uncompromising confidence of Talia. The daughter of the Demonhead was reborn and ready to purge anything but Bane from her body forever.

Her blue eyes opened clear- and she crossed the small distance between them to stand inside his strong thighs before falling to her knees. With gentle hands she pulled on the zipper of his cargo pants, taking it down very slowly, reaching her hand in to free him- moaning at the feeling of the familiar thickness in her palm. His hand snared her wrist before she had a chance to do anything else, and Talia's confusion must have been written across her face. He shook his head once before pulling her to her feet and grabbing her backside, forcing her to straddle his hips. One of his hands clamped down on her hip as the other wound into the hair at the base of her scalp, holding her head tightly- in this position she could do nothing but rest her hands tentatively on his shoulders.

Her skin was crackling with energy and anxiety as he remained still for what felt like an eternity. Then, before she could react, he released her hip and pulled her head back. Her eyes rolled in her head as she felt him rub up against her entrance- slowly tracing himself back and forth, letting her slick wetness coat just the blunt tip of his cock before slipping in only an inch- only to pull out again. It was absolutely maddening, as he repeated the leisurely movement over and over- each time making sure to barely slip in, stretching her slightly before withdrawing. Talia whimpered at the teasing, and tried as hard as she could to sit down further- to take him inside. "Please," She whined into a gasp as he slid in again- further this time- only for a second and was gone again. "Bane, please I need you."

Despite everything that had happened between them, all it took was her plea to break his resolve. As if, no matter what he had led her to believe in his anger, Talia's simplest command still had his complete devotion. The hand in her hair relaxed its bruising grip and slid up to cup the back of her skull, tilting her head down until her forehead met his. "Look at me," His voice rumbled low- almost a growl. She complied instantly, out of both adoration and a genuine desire to please him- there was no fear between them now. Without warning his hips slammed upwards burying himself to the hilt in one vicious thrust.

A savage scream ripped from her throat as he filled her to the limit, and Talia's body shook at the sensation of being so brutally penetrated. So full- it felt as if she would break in half from the pressure. All the while Bane held her prisoner, both with his strong hands and his fathomless gaze. She panted loudly as she tried to regain control of her overwhelmed body; willing her it to relax and take him all in. Finally her inner walls adjusted, the pain giving way to frustration- she wanted him to _move;_ and she rocked her hips forward, searching for friction. His response was swift- immediately yanking her body up and off him, holding her tight as his hard length tempted her from below.

It became suddenly clear to her- he would be the one in charge tonight. She would receive pleasure only if it was his wish; and in this way, Bane finally reclaimed his dominance. He was the only one who had ever- could ever- do this to her. So she surrendered for the second time tonight, tears filled her tired blue eyes as she leaned into him, tasting the breath that seeped from his mask. "Faster," she whispered. "I need you…I…" Her plea was cut off in a yelp as he plunged into her again; setting a strong rhythm of perfectly controlled thrusts, stroking the entire length of her insides with wicked efficiency. Talia moaned loudly as she gripped at his shoulders; her fingers curling into claws as he held her still, rotating his hips in a tight circle- rubbing himself against parts of her body that had been neglected in his absence.

Yes, tonight he would remind her of who was in charge- and how she would enjoy the lesson.

It was magnificent; and for the first time in years- she felt free. Talia rocked her hips against him again, her mouth dropping open as her clit scraped against the hard leather of his coat, such delicious friction. And though the look in his eyes still screamed his control- the enthusiasm in her vocalizations and movements seemed to have him completely enchanted. She braced her hands flat against his chest, pushing him back until he was lying flat and she was draped across him like a live blanket. This new position allowed her to kiss him from forehead to throat while he had the freedom to spread open his legs and pound up into her with abandon.

A stream of choked grunts, slipped past his mask and Talia bit down hard on his neck in response. The memory of many nights in her father's temple came rushing back to her, nights of stifled passion, of repressed feelings and a secrecy that always hounded them. They didn't need to obey it any longer- there was no one that could tear them apart now. Boldness and lust surged into her as her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and she egged him on with a wanton moan, "He's not here now; there is no need to be silent- I want to hear you." He snarled loudly as she bounced against him particularly hard, starting to meet each snap of his powerful hips. "Let the world hear us."

Her body was on fire, and Talia began to squirm restlessly on top of him- she was going to come, and she could do nothing to stop it. He didn't need to be told- in an impressive move of grace, Bane pulled out of her, kicked his feet up onto the mattress and spun her around so that her back lay against his chest. Her leg was lifted up high and he slid back into her tight, wet, warmth without missing a beat. One hand held her neck taut against his shoulder; while the other found its way down between her legs to where they were joined, circling her swollen flesh with rough precision. It was achingly perfect- and all it took was two or three hard thrusts into her from behind to send her over the edge into excruciating bliss.

She squeezed her eyes shut as her orgasm crashed over her in endless waves. The wash of sensation forever banishing the lies she had lived for so long- in the rhythmic clenching of her inner walls against his cock, Miranda Tate was finally exorcised from her body. And as he rolled her over onto her back and held her close, he destroyed any memory of her betrayal. In the safety of his embrace Talia could feel nothing but _him_. All around her, inside her- he was her entire existence. Bane was shaking as he drove her ruthlessly into the mattress, his breath panting loudly as he groaned one final word into her ear- in her mother's language- before he exploded, _"Mine."_

They were both gasping for air as he rolled onto his back and pulled her close; remaining inside her body even as he relaxed. Talia shivered uncontrollably, both from pure joy and the steady drop in air temperature- though right now she was too marvelously exhausted to move even a muscle. A wonderfully sated and genuine smile spread across her face as she nestled against the worn leather of his jacket. "I don't know if I have enough energy to get back to my apartment, my friend."

His arms tightened their grip as he chuckled softly, the small sound bringing her unimaginable comfort. "I could carry you, little one- if you wish." She felt the tears fall freely from her eyes at his use of her pet-name, after all she had done she had never thought he would ever say it again.

"I would like that," She bit her lip, looking up into his eyes with a glint of mischief. "After all, I was told the streets of Gotham aren't safe now."

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Talia unlocked the door to her apartment, her eyes completely in tune to the darkness that enveloped them; though she was suddenly startled as Bane's hand quickly grabbed the back of her coat, pulling her into his chest. She turned to him with a questioning look on her face, and he gestured wordlessly to the scene of absolute destruction that was scattered across her normally immaculate penthouse. An uncharacteristic giggle slipped from her mouth and Talia shrugged sheepishly. "I was upset before I left- though after tomorrow it will hardly matter."

It was difficult to keep her excitement under control; tomorrow her protector would begin the final assault on the city- storming Blackgate Prison and letting the scourge and filth of Gotham free to create chaos. How she wished she could be there to witness it.

Bane snorted softly and turned her to face him, kicking the door shut with his boot, completely uncaring as the loud bang resounded through the silent building. "But what will happen to Ms. Tate without her opulent cage?" A note of playful hunger infused his voice, "What will she do without all of _this_ to warm her during the cold nights to come?"

She stepped away from him slowly, pulling off her coat and walking towards the shredded couch. "I imagine she'll need to forget all the things she's lost." Talia reasoned with mock seriousness as she stripped off her tank top again and reclined on the soft leather cushions; her eyes fixing him in a lustful stare as she spread her legs invitingly, "Perhaps saying goodbye to each and every piece of furniture in this place, room by room- making memories that will keep her warm."

"Yes," he growled, stalking towards her. "She will need to feel fire."

He was on her again without hesitation, and proceeded to heal every part of her soul that she'd destroyed earlier in her misery. They fucked each other raw on the couch, the bed, in the shower and on the floor- giving Miranda Tate and her loathsome existence the proper send off it deserved. It was hours later when they finally both collapsed with exhaustion into a boneless heap; wrapped up in blankets in front of the floor to ceiling window. And as her protector held her tight in his arms, Talia took one last look at the dark skyline of the city she hated before letting sleep claim her. Tomorrow would come with destruction and rage- but for now she was quiet and safe- she was home again.

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**Yes! After that there is only one thing I can imagine doing…perhaps a dramatic and overly effusive speech in front of a maximum security prison! Also- has anyone seen Frankie?**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Wow, I can't believe I have another Chapter done…and with the impending 30'' of snow and blizzard this weekend, I am quite sure the next one will be coming shortly!**

**This chapter is split a bit odd, with the second part actually occurring first chronologically…but for effect I just liked it better like this, call it my theatricality…so exercising a little artistic license here. Hope it works like it does in my head : )**

**The usual warnings about adultish content and language…and I suppose also if you are offended by creative use of Biblical text…but then again if you have made it this far I highly doubt that any of this should turn you off. **

**Also I have referenced the French Revolution quite a bit here, as I really **_**love**_** the fact that Nolan took so much inspiration from 'A Tale of Two Cities.' I studied this time period in depth in college and have always had a bit of a history crush on Maximilien Robespierre- I think hearing him speak in person must have been incredible…that is right up until the guillotine blade came down and took your head off. Anyhow, supposedly, rumor has it that he was an influence for Bane- so if you haven't read about him…you should. That is my history lesson for now!**

**Thank you again to all who have reviewed, favorited and followed…you guys are all so very amazing…**

**And to my muse…I am forever grateful for EVERYTHING, the talks…the inappropriate comments that make me snort with laughter…the encouragement…and the editing of my crazy punctuation ; )**

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"The desire to sacrifice an entire lifetime to the noblest of ideals serves no purpose if one works alone." ~ Che Guevara

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For the life of her, she had no idea what she was still doing in the city. It wasn't as if she was trapped here, like the thousands of helpless citizens that were holed up in their houses like scared little rabbits. Frankie had any number of both lethal and sedate ways to get past the few mercenaries that guarded the blocked Midtown Tunnel; a frown fell across her face as she realized that she was still here because she didn't have anywhere else _to_ be. She had served Talia for so long that it had become her life, and free from the burden of that loyalty did not necessarily liberate her mind. For lack of a better word, she felt -lost.

The wind picked up and she shivered; the weather was strangely cool for October. She jammed her hands further into the pockets of her old leather coat to keep warm as she walked down the middle of the deserted street, her feet weaving back and forth across the painted yellow lines. Frankie's thoughts were swirling in a furious maelstrom and as she felt the twinge of a headache creep up her temples; she closed her eyes with a weary sigh- she just wanted to find a moment of peace tonight. She was exhausted and tired of running. She'd been on the move constantly since she'd left Talia's apartment over a week ago, only stopping at her place long enough to throw some essentials into a backpack before disappearing into Gotham's underworld. It certainly wasn't the first time in her life that she was living hand to mouth- though admittedly it had been a while.

Almost as if her body knew what she needed, she found herself in short order climbing up a rusty fire escape and landing quietly on a very familiar rooftop. Before she could lift up her head Frankie was taken completely by surprise as a calm voice floated through the air.

"No meal tonight?" A smile lit up her face as she looked across the roof to see Barsad sitting in the corner, his faithful and ever present sniper rifle pointed out over the partially darkened city.

"Apparently a mega-ton nuclear bomb threat closes quite a few businesses," she replied slyly, walking over to him and crouching down, leaning up against the solid weight of his shoulder, "I didn't expect you to be here tonight."

He pushed his rifle away and gently tugged at the sleeve of her coat, encouraging her to sit between his legs as he wrapped his arms around her body. His cheek brushed against hers as he spoke into her ear softly, "I didn't plan on it either."

Frankie sighed as she took a deep breath, enjoying the subtle scrape of his beard against her skin and the warmth of his presence. "Change of plans?" she questioned, turning her head to plant a gentle kiss on his lips, "I thought Bane would have kept you close with the plan unfolding."

"It was our arrangement originally, but my brother has been unexpectedly_ occupied_ tonight," he supplied casually, "And I do not fancy myself to be much of a voyeur- so here I am."

"Oh." She trailed off as she realized that Talia must have gone to him, finally. A strange mixture of relief and anxiety filled her stomach; despite her violent confrontation with her mistress, the thought of Talia being so tortured about her seduction of Wayne and the betrayal of her lover never sat well with her. When the woman had said that she and Bane were 'one' she was right- Frankie had never known anything like the bond the two of them shared-and the thought that it could be irrevocably damaged was a terrible thing. On the other hand, with them reunited, the fact remained that she wasn't exactly high on the Demonhead's list of allies- and the prospect of looking over her shoulder in constant fear for the rest of her life (no matter how short) was, to say the least, unappealing. Though Barsad had spent a great deal of time with Bane in the past week and seemed to be none the worse for wear. Her curiosity got the better of her, "They know about us."

He laughed dryly shaking his head, "Yes they do. I find it is impossible to keep things from him- the man is quite demanding of the truth."

His frank honesty surprised her, and she turned her head to take in his soft, caring eyes, lit up with a bit of mirth. "You told him?"

"There is nothing to hide, Franziska. He caught me returning one night late and asked me where I had been- I answered him."

Disbelief was written all over her stunned face, she had been _agonizing_ over this and losing sleep for months as she tip toed around Talia, fearing the woman's wrath.. and yet Barsad had simply shrugged his shoulders and told his master the truth. If she wasn't so completely shell shocked she might have actually been angry. He seemed to ignore her mood and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear cupping the back of her neck, bringing her aggravated lips to his and claiming them in a slow kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth with deep, lazy swipes before pulling away a few minutes later.

"He asked me if I was loyal to the cause; I told him yes- I imagine had I said no, I wouldn't be here now."

Frankie sighed with a gloomy laugh, "Now _that _is something I can believe very easily. Nothing will stand between them and the destruction of this pathetic city."

The sniper nodded his agreement and slid his arms tighter around her, before staring out over the skyline without saying another word. The steady rise and fall of his chest was so soothing, and it wasn't long before she felt her eyelids start to get heavy. It was such a wonderful sensation- to breathe easy without fear- to feel safe. Complete relaxation was the only explanation for what came out of her mouth; "Do you ever think of what you would do if you were free of the League?"

Barsad was quiet for sometime before he spoke; "I think I'd be a farmer, like my father was." An almost wistful tone entered his voice, "Somewhere quiet, calm, away from the cities…with endless fields and high grass. I'd be content to tend to sheep and lambs for the rest of my life."

Frankie stifled the tear that came to her eye; such a simple mundane existence, one that any of Gotham's citizens would have turned their proud noses up at- and right now what she wouldn't give to have it. But instead of sentiment, her unfailing cynicism was what bubbled to the surface to ease his mind, "I fucking hate sheep; one of them tried to trample me as a child- I nearly died."

A rare and very wholesome laugh suddenly barked from the quiet man; it was a noise she'd never heard from him before, and despite sounding like it hadn't been done for quite a while, she found she liked it. He shook his head, still smiling from ear to ear and replied without a second thought, "You wouldn't have to worry about them; you'd be in the house, cooking and minding our sons."

"Well, I guess if that is the case, I could deal with them," Frankie answered quietly, nuzzling her head against his cheek as a yawn finally slipped out, "Though I can't fucking cook either, and I am terrible with children."

"Go to sleep," Barsad commanded gently with a playful nudge, "I will keep watch tonight."

* * *

She woke after only a couple of hours, as the sun filtered over the top of the buildings and the cold air became too much to ignore with only body heat. Though it hadn't been the most comfortable place to rest, she felt infinitely more recharged. Frankie stood up and stretched her cramped back as Barsad hefted his gun over his shoulder with a barely concealed yawn. He glanced quickly down at the black Swiss SMW Titan Sniper's watch on his wrist and met her equally tired blue eyes.

"It will happen today at noon outside of Blackgate Prison."

Frankie nodded numbly, trying to process the fact that something that she had been working for from the time that she was twenty three years old was about to come to fruition. Even with her recent separation from Talia, somehow the emotion and feeling of triumph was no less fulfilling. "I will be there," she answered quietly. "After all this time- I wouldn't miss it for the world."

He leaned in to kiss her and she wrapped her arms around his waist instinctively, for a moment stunned at how easy she'd fallen into being affectionate towards him. After all, she'd spent the better part of her life being utterly alone and closed off to others- their fledgling bond was something completely alien, but definitely not unwanted. They parted without another word, no promises of when they would meet up, or even if it would ever happen again. Such frivolity and sentimentality wasn't gifted to people like them. Their lives were out of their control, beyond fate- dictated by a Doomsday clock with its hands poised at five minutes to midnight and counting down.

As Frankie nimbly jumped down the fire escape and weaved through the back alleys of the city, she reasoned that even devoid of sappiness and romance, what he'd shared with her that night- and in the handful of nights before was sufficient. For six months she'd had a measure of happiness and didn't apologize to anyone- it was enough. But a frown befell her as she thought about Talia- before this was all said and done; she wanted the Demonhead's trust again.

* * *

True to Barsad's word, Frankie found herself standing outside the imposing gates of the maximum security prison at noon with a small herd of squawking Gotham News reporters, and a group the oblivious populace; when suddenly one of the tank-like, camouflage tumblers came rolling down the street leading a caravan of vehicles- stopping directly in front of them. Her heart raced and her throat tightened at the sight of a massive truck with a corrugated steel container; possibly lead lined, and on the back of it… was the bomb. It had to be.

She stood to the back of the crowd, her long blonde hair concealed beneath a wool hat and tucked into the hood of her sweatshirt. She wanted to remain anonymous, to blend in and avoid any chance that she could be recognized- either as Sabine Borchert by a former colleague, or worse, as Franziska Renke by Bane or a member of the League. The man himself appeared moments later, dressed in his armored vest, dark military fatigues and a beautiful shearling wool lined leather long coat (one that she had admired for years); standing up from the machine and climbing onto the roof, as if he was preparing to hold audience in the middle of the _Palace de la Revolution _in 18th century Paris_._

At one point or another, the average person questions history. How the huddled, starving and destitute masses of the French Revolution, Czarist Russia or Weimar Germany could have been so entirely convinced to take up arms and wreak total and bloody revolution against the government and the upper classes that had abused them for so long; so readily able to justify brutality and hatred on such an unparalleled scale. Here, however, in this moment, Frankie completely understood- she _knew_ what they felt. Bane spoke and she was absolutely transfixed by his message; a modern day Robespierre with a booming, passionate, lyrical voice- inciting the people to destroy the trappings and decadence of society and take what belonged to them. The people of Gotham would be whipped into such a frenzy that the city would see its own inhuman reign of terror…it would tear itself apart from the inside.

She was so drawn in that she missed the moment that his sharp eyes stopped scanning the crowd and focused instead.. directly on her. Frankie suddenly felt adrenaline rush through her body in a colossal wave of panic- the instinct to run was screaming in her head, yet shock kept her rooted to the spot. Like a gazelle in the sights of a hungry lion, she was absolutely helpless. There was no doubt that she saw through her pathetic attempt at concealing her identity- if he wanted her dead, there was nothing that she could do to stop him. "This great city," he continued, lowering the volume of his voice, but neither it, nor his stare lost any intensity, "it _will_…endure."

Frankie held his eyes for another minute, before nodding in solemn acknowledgement. She wanted him to know that she was still here, and loyal. It was a pipe dream, but she absently wondered if he would report it to Talia. She stayed in the area even when the armed mob burst from the prison turning uptown, towards the wealthiest sections of the city. In fact, the last thing that caught her attention was the silhouette of a woman in one of the ill-fitting orange jump suits trying her best to stick to the shadows and disappear. A cruel grin came to her when she recognized the long straight brown hair- apparently Ms. Kyle _wasn't_ as good as she thought she was after all.

Suddenly Frankie moved to follow her, very curious as to just what the little _cat_-woman was going to do in this new savage city.

* * *

_Fire…all around her…white hot heat, burning, scorching her flesh and blistering her lungs- she couldn't breathe…she was all alone…pain….pain, everywhere…._

Talia's eyes suddenly snapped open as she silently gasped for air, her entire body tingling and trembling with bone chilling anxiety. As her eyes swept across the familiarity of Miranda Tate's ruined penthouse, she began to relax- it was only a dream. But it had been so real- so very real. She gently moved out of the warm tangle of both the blankets and her protector's strong arms, making sure not to wake him. It wasn't yet dawn- and with the day's glorious events yet to come, Bane deserved the uninterrupted sleep. The chill of the late fall morning hung in the apartment and she shivered, reaching for the recognizable shelter of his long coat, and sighing pleasantly as it enveloped her entire frame.

Her feet lightly moved across the plush carpet, her natural grace and training not needed on the muted surface to keep noiseless, until she came to a stop in front of the huge window. The city was still dark, and with a shaking breath Talia placed her palms flat against the glass, feeling the cool move through her hands. She'd dreamed about fire - like the burning nuclear furnace that would eradicate the city - and if she was 100% confident in the plan's success. Her body, as well. And though the thought of death must have scared her on some primal level, it wasn't what had disturbed her so- for the first time in twenty years she'd dreamed about her mother. Time may have robbed her memory of the perfect lines of the woman's beautiful face or the smell of her skin, but Talia could still hear her voice clearly- soft and melodic, as if she had sung a lullaby in her ear and rocked her to sleep just last night. She'd asked her if she was ready to embrace her choices- if this destiny, her father's destiny, was what she truly wanted.

The answer was clear in the subtle change of the air around her body, any doubt or fear instantly evaporating away as Bane's presence loomed behind her. His fingers delicately wound into her hair, stroking through the tangle of long dark curls with a soothing pull.

"Bad dream, little one?"

His deep voice was strangely gentle, the emotion of their reunion and the past night's passion still evident in the tone. Talia turned around slowly to meet him, taking note that despite the chill in the air, he was still completely nude. His hand slid from her hair and cupped her cheek, tilting it up to meet her pensive stare.

He waited patiently as her brow furrowed for a moment, before she finally replied with the simplest explanation of her remaining feelings; "It was a strange dream."

She smiled as he nodded quietly, his eyes still remaining on hers as his thumb absently stroked her face in soothing circles, the same way he had comforted her countless times as a child when memories of her mother's death or the horrors of the pit crept into her dreams.

"Don't worry about me," Talia insisted, reaching up to touch the muzzle of his mask, "I am alright my friend."

Her fingers traced the tubes of the hard metal cage as his hand gently clasped hers, intertwining their fingers together- and not backing off. He still said nothing; and Talia knew that he was waiting for the truth from her lips, and he would wait without a word until she confessed.

"I was burning," she finally whispered, closing her eyes to the pain. "And I was all alone."

A lump of emotion tightened her throat, and when her eyes opened again she felt them instantly fill with tears. Bane lowered their joined hands before releasing his grip and reached out to her shoulders, pushing the heavy leather coat off of them.

"You are never alone."

His voice was a low, possessive rumble; and though the tone would have made stronger men cower, for Talia it brought her comfort.

"I have always been your shadow, always with you, and I will remain at your side until the end."

The fevered vow of his loyalty was enough to instantly reignite the smoldering embers of their passions. His hands smoothed down her body, reverently mapping the beautiful, lush, curves before grabbing the back of her thighs and lifting her up; encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist. Despite the soreness in her nether regions from his inexhaustible and incessant attention, she found herself more than sufficiently wet and ready the moment he pressed his hardness against her waiting body. A shiver raced up her spine as he flattened her back against the window, before clasping her hips tightly and sliding back into her tight heat with one fluid push. He began a slow, gentle rock of his hips, sliding in and out of her in a calm rhythm, as he brought his face down to meet hers.

"Do not fear the fire," he spoke evenly, softly, as his palm found her cheek again, "I do not."

Talia reached out to touch his face in the same manner, trying to keep her eyes open as each thrust of his cock into her body took her breath away.

It was happening too fast. She wanted to wait- to savor this moment with him until the sun rose. In her bid for concentration, her lust addled mind began to wander; somehow able to recall the nights she'd spent in her father's temple sitting on her protector's bed, before they were lovers, when he would read to her. Everything from the classics, to modern science, poetry and even the psalms and scripture of the Bible- never had she felt more at peace than in those moments. A surprised gasp puffed from her lips as he pressed her harder to the glass, grinding his pelvic bone against hers, stroking her clit hard and instantly pulling her out of her revelry. She licked her parched lips, catching the pad of his thumb in her teeth, sucking tenderly on it before moaning the first lines she could remember; "For my days vanish like smoke; my bones burn like glowing embers."

Bane chuckled darkly as he traced her swollen lips with his moistened digit, "Reciting psalms at the end of the world, dear one?"

"You know I always _loved_ hearing them from your mouth," Talia sighed rocking back against him, writhing as she stimulated herself, "I used to think of the sound of your voice as you read them- at night, when I was all alone. Let me hear it now."

As always, her simplest request had his immediate obedience; "I heard and my heart pounded, my lips quivered at the sound; decay crept into my bones, and my legs trembled…" he paused to sheathe himself to her very limit, before rolling his hips and resuming his speech in a powerful growl, "Yet I will wait patiently for the day of calamity to come."

The mere tone of his voice was enough to make her toes curl and bring her racing towards the edge; he could feel it, and he sped up his movements to take her there. Talia was breathing desperately, stealing the huffs of air that escaped from his mask, before giving it back in a panting moan; "Our skin is hot as an oven, feverish from hunger." Her back arched suddenly and whatever escaped from her protector's mouth was lost as the blood surged in her ears and an explosion detonated in her core. She came – hard - clawing at his arms and letting out a vicious scream as he continued to pump into her, drawing out his own release in a triumphant roar.

Bane fell to his knees, keeping Talia wrapped around him and still pressed against the window. She sighed contentedly as she leaned forward to kiss his sweat slicked forehead. The weak first light of the sun shone from behind her, bathing them both in a very soft glow.

"I wish I could be there with you today, to see you set it all in motion," she mumbled quietly as she traced the massive muscles of his shoulders, "I don't even know where Miranda will be forced to hide…or when I can come to you again."

He nuzzled her neck softly before running his fingers down the pale column of her throat, "You are always with me, little one, and I have no doubt that I will see you quite soon. After all, I have heard it remarked that Miranda Tate is very persistent," the tell tale lines around his eyes betraying his masked smile, "Though her chastity is rather questionable."

Talia laughed out loud, giving him a playful swat. She was so incredibly thankful to be with him like this again; any memory of the ache and loneliness of the last week was banished. "Well _I've_ heard she's quite lovely."

"Yes," he acquiesced, stroking his hands through her hair again, "So very, very lovely."

* * *

They spent a few more precious moments joined in their intimate embrace before they reluctantly separated, and then took a quick shower in that fabulous bathroom for the last time. Talia packed a small backpack full of _her_ clothes to give to Bane, while she dressed in a sensible outfit from Miranda's dresser- it would be sometime before she could be herself again. He walked her to the door like a gentleman before she pulled him into a tight embrace, and wished him luck with a soft kiss to his metal mouth. He left with a gentle nod, disappearing down the darkened hallway and leaving her alone in the penthouse for the last time.

After one last look around, Talia walked out with her head clear. It began today at noon, in front of Blackgate Prison; her father's grand plans would begin again- and this time there would be no one to stop them. Gotham would burn…and they would rise.

* * *

**And here we go…**

**Please leave a review in the box…right there…**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: 'Nother one down! Personally this Chapter and the next are the part of the movie where I really feel like Talia must have been a serious player that Nolan kept completely away from our eyes…she was single-handedly able to blend in and undermine everything without arousing the tiniest bit of suspicion- cue a perfect little playground!**

**Thank you for those who have read and reviewed, favorited and followed…it's gotten me from a one shot to here!**

**And to my partner in crime…there are no words, and thank you doesn't come close : )**

**Still own nothing, nothing at all…**

* * *

"Identity is gradual, cumulative; because there is no need for it to manifest itself, it shows itself intermittently, the way a star hints at the pulse of its being by means of its flickering light. But at what moment in this oscillation is our true self manifested? In the darkness or the twinkle?" ~ Sergio Chejfec

* * *

Talia warmed her hands over the meager fire, trying and failing to get the February chill out of her bones. Her eyes absently scanned the area taking in the fifteen or so haggard bodies dressed in obscenely expensive business attire that did absolutely nothing to help with survival. The entire Wayne Enterprises Board of Directors had been holed up on the top floor of the Federal Reserve building since the Blackgate raid four months earlier; and if it wasn't for Lucius Fox's fast thinking and her ability to build a fire, the entire group of useless bureaucrats would have frozen to death ages ago. She had originally hoped to remain in the background and not show any sort of proficiency in such matters - no doubt someone with Miranda Tate's upbringing had most likely never enjoyed a weekend camping trip - but after five or six hours of utterly freezing her ass off she had given up on the idea and build a small fire in one of the metal filing cabinet drawers.

The plan was moving better than she could have anticipated. Bane had fortified City Hall, keeping the population distracted with a series of absolutely pointless show trials. He personally watched as the city's wealthy 'criminals' were paraded in front of a kangaroo court to inevitably receive a sentence that condemned them to an icy death on the partially frozen river. How quickly the civilized had devolved into a blood thirsty mob, content to pass judgment on others… as the time on the bomb ticked away. The only downside to the entire situation was the fact that after John Daggett had met his inglorious end in a dumpster behind his office complex, the other board members were so paranoid that the door to the room had been barricaded from the inside. Her only means of possible entrance and exit was the windows, none of which had any sort of fire escape, and as a result she had no contact with her protector other than what could be gleaned from a small radio broadcasting emergency news updates 24/7.

And she missed him- god how she missed him.

"Are you warm enough Miranda?" Fox's pleasant tone floated into her ears. The man was too damn charming for his own good; here he was ready to literally give her the coat off his back and she was going to thank him by using the knowledge he'd entrusted her with to destroy the city. If she'd been so inclined, perhaps this was be the only death that would warrant a feeling of guilt. He was a noble man, a good father figure- and in another life she would have liked to have known him better.

"I am fine Lucius," She spoke with a smile. "Don't be foolish, you are going to need the warmth for yourself."

Suddenly a loud bang cracked through the room, and Talia's eyes flew to the door as the flimsy barricade bowed dangerously before shattering. She spun around to crouch defensively, unable to suppress her years of combat training and natural instinct, though Fox and the others were far too focused on the situation to notice. A moment later a group of several men crashed through the door, guns drawn and she recognized their leader immediately- Police Commissioner James Gordon. He moved into the room flanked by a rag-tag group of ten or so plain clothed men armed with police issue 9mm Glock pistols; after a quick appraisal Talia reasoned that they must have been detectives- it would have kept them separate from the main force that went down into the tunnels that day.

Gordon took a quick glance around the room before settling his grey eyes on her and Fox; the surprise was written all over his face, "My god, it's the entire Wayne Enterprises board." He walked brusquely over to them and grabbed Lucius in a quick hug, patting him on the back. "Now we have someone who can talk to the government about how to disarm this damn bomb!"

The hopefulness in his voice accelerated her heart into a perverse beat of absolute elation. She curled her hands into a ball and bit her cheek to keep from smiling as the old man closed his eyes sadly and shook his head; "There is no way to disarm it Jim- it's not a regular bomb."

The Commissioner was silent, and suddenly an irritated voice piped up from behind him, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Talia took one look at the handsome, clean cut detective and began Miranda's heartfelt explanation; "It's not a bomb, not originally; it is the core to a one of a kind fusion reactor developed by Wayne Enterprises to supply clean energy to the city."

"And what, that maniac _turned_ it into a bomb?" the young detective shouted, his brown eyes dancing with injustice, chomping at the bit to run out and face the tide guns blazing, "There has to be a way to fucking stop it."

Maniac. Hearing her friend called that, dismissing him as insane- putting him in the same class as the others in Gotham's history who had tried to destroy the city absolutely infuriated her. How dare he speak of the League of Shadows in such a manner? He should feel honored to be cleansed by such holy fire! She had to will her pulse to calm down and control the flush that suffused her cheeks as she continued, "Detective…"

"Blake, ma'am," he answered, bowing his head and immediately minding his tone, "John Blake."

"Detective Blake, the reason that it cannot be stopped is in the nature of the core." Talia changed tactic, placing a trembling hand on Fox's shoulder as she worked the fear into her voice with perfection, "It is unstable…decaying... We have five months from the moment it was removed from the reactor until it reaches a critical state…" she covered her mouth with a shaking breath, a tear falling down her cheek.

"What does that mean Ms. Tate?" Gordon pleaded, his face blanching completely pale.

Talia let the tears fall and thankfully Fox picked up on her distress, continuing with a sigh, "It means in less than a month the core will completely decay to the point that it will detonate- with or without being triggered."

* * *

She had to think fast; Fox had just informed her (via a handheld walkie talkie left behind by Gordon) that Blake was bringing a group of Special Forces soldiers to their location to be briefed on the information about the reactor. Talia's mind went into overdrive- she _needed_ to get the information to Bane, as there was no way the government could find out about the inevitable detonation. It would ruin everything. She walked over to the corner window and rested her head against the glass, trying to collect her thoughts, taking a deep breath her eyes scanned towards City Hall- willing him to hear her. And then she saw it.

On the corner of the adjacent rooftop a sudden flash of light caught her eye. She squinted in the daylight until she caught it again; there- it was a scope… a sniper's scope. Talia cast a quick look over her shoulder before grabbing a sliver of broken mirror by her foot, nearly lightheaded with relief as she flickered out a specific pattern using the sun's reflection, a simple word- 'fire', in Russian Morse Code. She waited for tense moments until a response shined back on her face- 'rises.' It was Barsad, just as she suspected. With a flip of her wrist she communicated the information and walked back to the center of the room without ceremony, knowing that she has just sentenced the operatives to death.

* * *

Her secret communiqué had been a success. One minute the arrogant Special Forces Captain had been dismissing young Detective Blake's accurate appraisal of the bleak situation… and the next, bullets were flying. Talia's adrenaline surged as she knew her protector had arrived to finally liberate her from this horrible place; she tried desperately to remain in character while at the same time making her location known. Fox however had other plans, pushing her gently into the arms of Blake and begging him to usher her to safety while he remained behind. As strong hands pulled at her shoulders the voice of the Demonhead inside her mind was raging, needing to break free; instead she forced it down again, giving a pained look at the old man as the League's soldiers surged into the room.

They moved through the streets of the city at breakneck pace, she was tripping and sliding in her overpriced ballet flats as he was practically _dragging_ her by her coat sleeves, screaming at her to run- now. From overhead came the sudden and deafening roar of helicopter blades, both of them skidded to a stop in the middle of the road and turned their heads skyward. A gasp of genuine horror fell from Talia's mouth as she watched three Apache helicopters fly towards the city limits, the slain soldiers suspended from them like some sort of perverse marionette puppets. And though revulsion was her first reaction to the scene, she also knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was a declaration of power and dominance equal to any her father had ever shown- she felt pride.

She hid her eyes in mock fear as she let arms come around her to shield her from the display, "Come on Ms. Tate, we need to keep moving." And though he had hoped to be the strong one, Talia could hear the faint shake in his voice; "We aren't safe here."

* * *

It may not have been her plan initially, but when Blake led her to the hideout of James Gordon and the remainder of the Gotham City Police Department, she almost blessed her luck. Here she was able to listen in on _everything_, every idea and ill-intended plan of attack against Bane or the bomb; and best of all, due to the chaos and turmoil she was able to slip away unnoticed from time to time with very little effort. It was never more than an hour - two at the most - but she savored every precious moment, knowing they were finite.

For the few weeks that followed, Barsad quickly became her most reliable link to her friend. Though she was able to get away from the Police with ease, approaching City Hall was impossible. A mob of unskilled and unpredictable armed escapees from Blackgate controlled the streets, while members of the League of Shadows patrolled the adjacent rooftops. Even with her status as the undisputed leader and heir, many of these men were recruited and trained during the past eight years- when she had been absent from Bane's side building her life of lies as Miranda Tate; to them she was no different than the other wealthy 'criminals' due for trial.

The reserved sniper said very little to her as he led her through the dark alleyways close to the government complex, finding a suitable place for her to hide in the shadows as he called into his radio for her friend. They waited in silence as he stood guard with his gun drawn, ready to protect her at a moment's notice; and for the first time in the many years she'd known him, Talia noticed just how trustworthy he was. A pang of something that felt suspiciously like guilt gnawed at her insides- he no doubt had made a faithful and devoted lover as well. She hadn't thought of her old comrade since the day she left her apartment almost five months ago, but suddenly she found herself wondering about Franziska.

"Have you seen her?" Talia asked quietly, surprised when a small flash of resentment flashed across his otherwise neutral stare.

He shook his head, "No."

Her blue eyes trained on his, and even in the darkness it was clear that he was lying to her. They both knew it, and years ago the thought of anyone outright defying her and/or lying to her face would have resulted in a slit throat; but now she could only smile wistfully, remembering a time when _she'd _lied to the Demonhead - her own father- for the same reason. She dropped the subject without another word.

Moments later the smooth rumble of one of the massive tumbler machines came to a stop just outside the alleyway. The top slid back quietly and with a graceful leap her protector's heavy booted feet landed before her. Talia ran to him without thinking- she just wanted to feel him again, regardless of the situation. She slid her hands beneath his coat and burrowed into his large chest as his arms came around her, enveloping her in comforting warmth. A hand tangled into her hair as he gently tugged at the base of her skull, pulling her face up to meet his. "I have someplace you need to see," his voice rumbled through his chest and she laughed at the thinly veiled teasing tone.

Talia nodded, biting her lip in anticipation, but still not ready to move out from the shelter of his arms or his coat.

"You had better make it quick, my friend- I am in no mood to wait tonight."

"Come then, little one."

He waved Barsad away with a nod of the head before leading her over to the idling tumbler and helping her climb inside the elaborate cockpit. She marveled at the vehicle's state of the art control systems- Fox really was a genius; it really was too bad about his employer. They drove a short distance downtown to the business district and Talia frowned as she instantly recognized the smooth, modern, black glass windows of the Wayne Tower building, still fully lit up like it had been the day she left. Thanks to the entire city's power and water mains running into the building it was immune to the intermittent power outages that plagued the rest of the city.

"What are we doing _here_?" she queried with a raised eyebrow. Bane didn't answer her; instead he helped her out and took her hand, pulling her into the building towards the executive elevator. She was about to tell him that they needed an access card to activate the lift, when he fished into his coat pocket and produced a shiny laminated card with one, John Daggett's face on it. He waggled the card with a flourish and Talia couldn't suppress the giggle that bubbled out; it had been years since she had seen him this playful, and she was genuinely curious as to what could have put him in such a good mood.

They stepped inside the elevator and he fiddled with a tangled mass of wires that hung out of the pried off brass control panel. It suddenly began to rise smoothly, and minutes later arrived on the Penthouse floor. The shiny doors slid open noiselessly and he gestured for her to walk out. Talia obeyed, stepping out of the small space and into such luxury she couldn't help but gape open mouthed like some sort of fish. The opulence and extravagance of Bruce Wayne's penthouse apartment made Miranda Tate's look like a shabby airport hotel room- she'd never seen anything like it in her life.

The entirety of the city's skyline was visible through four walls of tinted floor to ceiling windows; the floor was made of black granite and every one of the counters and surfaces from gleaming white marble. Her eyes wandered from the very modern metal and leather furniture to the open air patio and as her feet moved of their own will, she rounded a corner and came to his bedroom. It was dominated by an enormous bed that was partially concealed behind a frosted glass privacy screen, covered with an impossibly soft looking ivory down comforter and a gas fire place built into the far wall. She stood in the middle of the room in a daze without saying a word, until she felt him move behind her and suddenly his looming presence made it all too clear- he'd brought her here to finally get his revenge on Bruce. The site of the original betrayal, Wayne Manor, was outside the metropolitan city limits in the Palisades, and therefore inaccessible at the moment- so her protector had found another way.

"How did you find this place?" Talia whispered, turning to meet him.

He reached out to brush her wool pea-coat from her shoulders, "I didn't." He pulled off her silk scarf and tugged at the bottom of her simple black shirt, "Barsad was looking for a perch with better access to City Hall when he found _Mr. Wayne's_ second home."

"Oh I see, quite fortunate," she answered breathlessly as she lifted her arms to help him remove the offending garment. A devious spark danced in her gut as she watched his eyes darken at the sight of her black, lace negligee. It was something he usually ignored - absolutely frivolous, costing more than most families in Gotham made in a week - but tonight he seemed quite taken by the novelty. She stepped away from him slowly as she sauntered over to the fireplace, flipping a switch and instantly bathing the room in a flickering orange glow, before moving to the bed and grabbing the blanket; she knew what he wanted- to take her exactly as _he_ had that night. And tonight she was more willing than usual to indulge in any of his wishes; their forced and continuing separation was becoming agonizing. She_ knew_ it was necessary, but it did nothing to diminish the ache- instantly triggering the memories of his excommunication, wounds that after all this time hurt still.

It could have been the taboo setting - feeling Bane's strong, powerful body around and deep inside her, here in her enemy's sanctuary - or the fact that she knew that their time tonight was so limited, but it aroused her in a way she hadn't felt since she was a teenager. And it would seem that she wasn't the only one who felt this way. His breathing was loud, and this time he did nothing to suppress the animalistic growls and groans that streamed from his muzzled lips. Hearing him so enthusiastic and vocal only served to charge the lust in her body further; she told him - breathless and needy - of how he made her feel; how there was no similarity between the him and Wayne…and he had silenced her with soothing words and a gentle finger to her lips as he _showed_ her his superiority. There really wasn't even a need to make the comparison- aside from the pure stroke to his male ego; there was no one who even deserved the consideration. Their bond was so strong, so deep and all consuming; more than anything that could be made from such a simple, physical act as intercourse. It was one born of suffering, forged and hardened by pain; a fusion of two souls that could never be separated. As they finally raced towards their explosive climax, Talia was wailing out with such desperate passion that she wasn't sure that the entire city couldn't hear her screaming his name; and he was right with her, reveling in his command of her body.

Time passed far too quickly- the hour seeming to vanish in a matter of seconds. Reluctantly they dressed themselves, regretting the fact that the penthouse couldn't be subjected to the same sort of thorough treatment as Miranda's. Talia shook her head as she caught him using Wayne's comforter to clean himself, wiping off the remnants of their joining with the very same blanket the man had slept in. Somehow, despite being perhaps one of the most powerful men in the world at this moment, her friend was not above behaving like any other possessive, juvenile male, kicking his opponent when they were down. He caught her disapproving stare and zipped his pants, before putting on his coat and holding onto the lapels defiantly, arching a brow to bait her comment. She didn't disappoint: "Are you ready to go now?"

"Quite," he answered, both of them barely able to keep the laughter at bay as they made their way out of the building and into the night.

The drive back to the alley and the waiting sniper took only a few minutes, and Talia sighed as the blissful high from their frenetic union was slowly fading, being replaced by the heavy weight of reality and their situation. Her protector's face mirrored the complete and utter exhaustion that gripped both her body and her soul, but they couldn't stop now- they were so close to achieving their goal, to realizing her father's destiny. They had an eternity to rest when this was all over. She said goodbye with gentle kisses beneath his eyes and a soft touch of her fingertips to his mask; "I will see you soon, my friend."

* * *

A week later she stood outside of Foley's house, listening to the Commissioner desperately plead with his old colleague for help. He was trying to track the bomb, and with good reason- it was set to detonate in two days at a little past ten in the morning. Talia watched as the coward slammed the door in his face and Gordon's shoulders slumped in defeat, it was the window she needed; her last chance to insure that they didn't find it in time. She cleared her throat and spoke confidently; "I hear you are looking for men."

* * *

**Until next time…I think I have a court summons…**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: And we come to Chapter 10…which is a charming little continuation of Chapter Nine. : ) Sort of the last bit of set up for what will be the big finale… so while it isn't terribly filled with action, I think it gets us into the heads of our lovely, lovely characters- which I quite enjoy and hope you will as well.**

**Thank you to all those that have reviewed, favorited and followed; and to those who have read (and I hope enjoyed) please let me know what you think- you have no idea how much a few words of encouragement make a wannabe author smile. **

**Lastly, to my indispensable cohort… XD**

**Still own nothing…nothing at all…**

* * *

"Fiat justia niat caelum" (Let justice be done though the heavens may fall) ~ Anonymous, Latin Legal Phrase

* * *

Talia covertly glanced down at the Geiger counter in her hand as one of the three large metal trucks drove by, rumbling its way down the empty, snow covered street. The needle stayed still. It wasn't the bomb- perfect. Her gaze flitted up tentatively before she made eye contact with a few men across the street, giving a silent nod of affirmation- a complete lie. The situation couldn't have been more ideal; Gordon had actually _given_ her the responsibility to discover and track which one of the trucks carried the weapon. They had less than 24 hours before detonation and she had done everything in her power to make sure that they were tracking an empty container.

She trotted across the street and met up with the Commissioner and his loyal group of detectives, "That was the one, I am sure of it." Her breathless explanation immediately satisfied the men and just as she handed the piece of electronics back a gun shot rang out over her head; Talia spun around to see twenty or so members of the League closing in on them from all directions. She tried to push to the front of the group, but Gordon's men wouldn't let her; instead she was left standing there like a helpless damsel in distress as she watched the familiar form of Barsad stroll up to them.

"Commissioner Gordon, you are under arrest." His normally calm and placid expression was gone, replaced with a confidence and arrogance that Talia had seen perhaps a handful of times in the ten years she'd known him.

"On whose authority?"

A derisive laugh puffed out of his mouth as his eyes landed for a millisecond on her face, "The people of Gotham."

* * *

City Hall had been fortified beyond anything she could have imagined. Talia stared wide eyed at the barbed wire and wooden barricades erected amidst the marble columns and polished brass; it looked more like the trenches on the Western Front of 1918 France than the inside of a government building. The group was herded quickly through the lobby, past a crowd of the worn-down and scared members of Gotham society- people that Miranda Tate knew very well- and up onto the main floor, underneath the vaulted ceiling of the rotunda. It would seem that Gordon and his men would not be given even a moment of reprieve; they were to meet justice now.

The makeshift courtroom was a manic frenzy, littered with papers and a jeering public standing where the witnesses and jury should have been. Like something out of the dark-ages, ordinary citizens were packed in to watch people be sentenced to death and executed. The entire scene of corruption and moral depravity absolutely disgusted her; this city was beyond saving- what her and Bane were doing was a mercy killing. No different than a farmer who has no choice but to put down a lame horse, Gotham had been allowed to limp along for far too long.

And holding court above them, gavel in hand, stacked up on a mountain of filing cabinets and office desks was a madman.

Doctor Jonathan Crane was the youngest head psychiatrist in the history of Arkham Asylum; a brilliant psycho-pharmacologist and former associate of her father. He had been nothing more than crooked puppet when Ra's al Ghul had used him, convinced that he would receive some sort of monetary compensation for his weaponized fear toxin; but after their failed plan something had happened to him- the man that now leered down at her was, to say the least, unwell. The suit he was wearing had once been expensive, tailored - if not bespoke- but now it was in disarray- rumpled- the edges worn and tattered. And it looked suspiciously like he had crow's feathers tufting out of the shoulders.

However it was his eyes that finally gave her pause. Peering out from behind the shelter of a nuanced pair of rather modern frame-less eyeglasses was a very specific shade of cold, cunning, crystalline blue. A color that in all the years she'd been alive and among all her wide travels she had only seen on one other person; more than a decade ago, sitting in the back of a rickety airport tram in Bulgaria-they were Franziska's eyes. But the similarities ended at the color. Where Frankie's gaze may have always been shrewd and cynical, Crane's exuded a barely controlled insanity that seemed to belie the calm, condescension of his current demeanor. Talia reasoned rather quickly that there was more than one person taking up residence inside the good doctor's head- and she wasn't quite sure she wanted to meet the other one.

"Crane, if you think we are going out on that ice willingly, you have another thing coming."

Gordon's stubborn declaration snapped her out of her daze and she stared at the defiant Commissioner who certainly seemed to enjoy snubbing his nose at the twisted legal proceeding; the irony of the reversal was not lost on her. His men raised their heads in unison, a sign of solidarity for their leader; it was an admirable display. Useless and futile-but admirable none the less. And it infuriated the mock judge. He pursed his lips and raised his thin shoulders with a sigh of annoyance.

"Death, then?"

"Looks that way."

A haughty, vindictive glare pulled his eyebrows up to his hairline and a triumphant smirk slowly rolled across his face as he leaned over the desk; looking at the group as if he had them exactly where he wanted them. "Very well- death…" Crane paused dramatically before raising his gavel, "…by exile."

As the sentence was pronounced, former Blackgate prisoners and League soldiers instantly closed in corralling the detectives. For a split second Talia's heart rate jumped, she was unsure of what she was supposed to do, or say. Suddenly she felt a hand close in on her elbow and she turned to meet Barsad's stare. And then, finally, a moment of absolute comfort and peace amidst the cacophony of screams- her protector's voice.

"Bring her to me."

* * *

Frankie casually leaned up against an alley wall as she watched Ms. Selena Kyle save a young thief from the ass kicking he was due. It really was quite entertaining to watch her extol advice on another when _she_ had no goddamn idea how to steal something from someone who couldn't catch you, evidenced by her latest stint behind bars. She almost felt the need to push off the wall and give the kid her pocket knife and a real suggestion- you don't need to worry about outrunning a corpse.

She absently glanced at her watch, it was a little after two in the afternoon. There were some serious decisions that needed to be made very soon- namely whether or not she wanted to live past tomorrow. Her head and her sense of self preservation told her to run, that there was nothing left to hold her here. Even Barsad had told her to go- to escape and live a life for both of them. And she wanted to do it, if it wasn't for the nagging guilt that tore at her insides.

She'd sworn an oath to her mistress all those years ago, a declaration of loyalty to follow the Demonhead her until death, and that moment had not come yet. The existential crisis kept her in her current spot long enough to notice a man approaching Selena from the shadows. Tall, well build, with a suave air of arrogance; she'd seen that swaggering stride before. Frankie's blood ran cold as she recognized him instantly- Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne was back in Gotham. How had he come back? In a split second her decision was made, her mistress needed her one last time- and she would not fail her now.

* * *

Talia breathed deeply as Barsad led her out of the open air of the 'courtroom' into an elevator where her friend was waiting. She barely kept the guise of fear on her face long enough to remain convincing. A furious rage stirred deep inside her as she watched the laughing and sneering faces of the public pointing at her with amusement, their twisted minds hoping that the prim and proper business woman would meet a fate worse than the ice at the hands of the mercenary monster. Memories of her mother's brutal death flashed before her eyes and she had to close them to will herself back to a calm place. She wanted to kill them all. She _would_ kill them all.

The moment they were away from prying eyes Bane's arms were around her, pulling her into his body- so very close. They were so close to the end. The warmth of his embrace and the familiarity of his scent as she breathed in deep, instantly calmed her galloping pulse and her fraying nerves. "I thought we'd never get here," She whispered with a weak smile holding him tightly. "I am so tired of hiding."

"There is something we need to discuss, little one."

His voice held the smallest amount of concern and Talia picked up on it instantly. "What are you talking about?"

Bane didn't reply, instead he patiently waited until the doors opened and led her out of the elevator and down the hallway to the former Mayor's office. He pushed open the double doors with a dramatic shove and she followed close behind, opening her mouth to repeat her question again when she noticed the woman standing on the other side of the room. Talia froze mid-step as she recognized Franziska immediately. The blonde squared her shoulders and raised her chin up the instant they made eye contact, attempting to put on a show of strength- but the nervous twitching of her fingers said otherwise. She looked thin, perhaps even frail; the past few months had been difficult on her no doubt. Ignoring the inexplicable feeling of relief and concern at seeing the girl again, Talia instead hardened her voice and her features.

"What are you doing here?"

Frankie's eyes darted fearfully to the hulking mass of Bane standing next to her before returning to meet Talia's again, "I…I have information that concerns the mission, Mistress."

Talia folded her arms thoughtfully, intrigued at the girl's show of respect; their last parting had not exactly been on such formal, or polite terms. But the truth remained that she was here now, and that alone was interesting enough to warrant explanation, "Continue."

"Bruce Wayne is back in Gotham. I saw him about twenty minutes ago talking to that traitorous little bitch Selena Kyle. He's looking for Lucius Fox." A weight fell from Frankie's shoulders as she saw Bane's head bow in acknowledgement- followed by Talia's hesitant nod. They seemed to believe her, or at least considered the information as pertinent. Her life was safe- for the moment.

"Are you completely sure?" Talia questioned sternly.

"Yes. I saw him- face on- there was no mistaking the identity."

He was back in the city. Talia rubbed at the side of her head, trying to calm the headache that was threatening to rage inside her skull. He had escaped the Pit…how had he escaped? She felt her protector's hand come up to gently rub the back of her neck, and she relaxed instantly at the contact. It didn't matter, they had _hours_ left and complete control of the situation; there was nothing that Wayne, Fox- or Batman for that matter, could do to stop them.

She let out a long exhale and looked at Frankie again. "What are _you _still doing in the city?"

The confusion on the girl's face was almost comical. She shrugged her shoulders and tried to sound nonchalant as her twittering fingers betrayed her again, "I swore an oath to serve the Demonhead until I have been sent away on her command." Frankie laughed nervously, "Besides, you know I never make plans more than a day at a time."

Talia let the grin slide across her face at her remark, before looking up to meet her again. "You have always been loyal, Franziska," she finally acquiesced with a sigh, "At times perhaps _too_ honest and opinionated, but loyal none the less." She moved away from Bane's shadow and walked up to the girl at the window, reaching up to rest her hand gently on Frankie's shoulder. The intimate gesture must have set her on edge, but the blonde's face betrayed none of her fear. Sapphire eyes met icy blue as Talia spoke quietly, "Thank you for your years of service. I have always appreciated them."

Frankie couldn't stop the tears that welled up in her eyes, stinging as they spilled down her cheeks. She knew she looked like a pathetic child, but she didn't care. As her chest tightened up with emotion only one thought repeated itself over and over in her head, and she let it fall uninhibited from her trembling lips, "Please don't send me away." She swallowed down a sob and pled to her mistress in an agonized whisper. "I don't want to be left behind… alone."

Talia's hand squeezed the shoulder of her coat as she closed her own eyes, banishing the wave of sadness and gratitude that hit her at Frankie's words. She nodded brusquely and opened them again, speaking in a clear voice, the Demonhead taking over. "Follow the cat-woman, and keep your eyes open. They will try to attack the bomb."

Frankie's face hardened instantly as she snapped back into the mind of the soldier, erasing any sort of weakness. Talia gestured to the door with her head, dismissing the girl as she had hundreds of times before. Though this time, before she left, she let her palm rise up to cup her cheek softly, wiping at the errant tears that stained the flawless porcelain skin. "Goodbye…my friend."

* * *

The old man was sitting alone amongst the crowd of shaking and pathetic masses. Talia played the part perfectly, stumbling off the elevator and adjusting her coat trying to hide what any of them would have assumed to be bruises or cuts; evidence of the savage brutality she'd been forced to endure. Fox instantly perked his head up at the sight of her, running across the room as fast as he could to comfort her and bringing them both back to his lonely perch by a small fire. His kind face showed a world of worry as he looked her over, "Are you alright, Miranda?"

She reached out and grabbed his hand, holding it gently and staring into the flames with a faint smile. "I am just fine Lucius, please don't worry about me."

* * *

They brought Wayne into the room six hours later- just as Frankie had informed her- the useless thugs mocked about getting a reward for bagging him. Talia moved instantly towards the hooded, kneeling man; biting her cheek to bring pain to her voice and using every bit of acting that she had been taught over the years to feign concern as Fox removed the hood to reveal the man she hated most. He stared at her with his big, brown eyes- pleading out with care and concern for the woman he had fucked and abandoned without a word five months ago. She managed to speak his name in Miranda's breathless voice, grasping desperately for genuine concern.

He asked her if she was 'alright' in passing, before grilling Fox about the state of the core and his plans to reconnect it to the reactor body. As if she was nothing more than a secondary thought. Talia actually relished the paradox- that the daughter of Ra's al Ghul was sitting in front of him and he passed her off as a simple woman. It was Fox who spoke up, begging him to make sure that he could get Miranda to safety; once again putting her welfare above his own.

Wayne however remained focused on his plan, turning to her to absently apologize. "Not tonight, I'm sorry."

Talia mumbled her understanding as a distinctive pair of metal high heels echoed off the marble floors behind her. She swiveled her head around to see Selena Kyle in her skin tight black, leather outfit as she sauntered down the stairs, stopping right in front of them. "Sorry to spoil things boys, but Bane wants these guys to himself." The tone of her arrogant and petulant voice was enough to stand Talia's hair on end; how _dare _she stroll in to her presence with such dismissal. She instantly understood what had made Frankie want to constantly gut the feline.

But it was Bruce who brought it all back again; he stared at her with a measure of absolute sincerity as he promised that he wouldn't forget about her. Talia couldn't even bring herself to smile as she looked at the man that had murdered her father, defiled her with his touch and caused her beloved protector such pain. No, he would never be able to forget about her. When she finally rose up as the Demonhead before him at the end of the world- he would forever remember. Hers would be the last face he would see before his city burned to ashes.

The whispered reply that came was an honest declaration, "I know."

* * *

Waiting for Bane to call for her had been the worst and most anxious moments of her life. But finally, a little after midnight a young League initiate appeared before her. "Get up- he wants you again." Talia stood slowly, observing the man before her who dared to gesture at her with a loaded rifle. He couldn't have been any more that 25- meaning the red scarf around his neck had been recently awarded-perhaps just before he arrived in Gotham for the siege. She tossed her hair over her shoulder with a flourish and walked towards the elevator with pride, waiting for the doors to shut before she turned to him, grabbing the muzzle of his weapon and seating her knife hard against his throat.

"You will mind your tongue around me," Her voice hissed with the pent up rage and fury of the day, making it sound little more than a growl as she pushed the blade harder. "Or I will bleed you where you stand."

Talia watched as the man's gaze turned angry, before a look of awe replaced the indignation in his eyes. He lowered his weapon slowly and she was surprised to notice that he was trembling ever so slightly. His throat bobbed in a hard swallow before he spoke, "The Demonhead."

The doors suddenly opened to reveal her friend, who took in the scene with his sharp hazel eyes; assessing her state before locking onto the initiate. For a moment she actually felt sorry for the man; and in a moment of generosity that she blamed on the lateness of the hour she sheathed her blade and stepped out of the enclosed space without permitting any sort of retribution. "Come, my friend."

Bane followed her wordlessly, his gait edgy- hands fidgeting constantly at his sides. Talia pushed into the mayor's office again and turned back to look at him. "You need to relax." She mumbled quietly, "There is nothing to think that Wayne will be able to stop us- it is too late now." He didn't reply or acknowledge her; instead he paced to the window, curling his hands into the lapels of his armored vest and staring out at the cityscape. Pure tension radiated from his body, evidenced by the continual tick of his neck and roll of his shoulders- he was stressed to the breaking point; the culmination of months and years of planning weighing down with crushing, inhuman pressure.

It was all because of her.

The stress, the injuries, the pain, the suffering- he had endured so much in his life and it had _always_ been for her. No more. She would not let him spend his last night in such discomfort. Talia walked slowly to the middle of the large room, taking note of the sprawling oak desk littered with blueprints, maps and notes before shrugging off her navy pea coat. She almost laughed out loud as she pulled off her scarf and then her shirt, realizing that this would be the last time that she would _ever _be dressed as Miranda Tate- it was liberating. Finally shedding the guise of the woman she loathed to be reborn in her own skin. In minutes she had stripped bare, shivering slightly in the cold as she took dainty steps towards the desk and jumped up, landing soundlessly on top of the smooth surface.

"Those are important documents, little one." His voice floated over as he turned to face her, the laughter barely disguised in the chastising tone.

Talia leaned back with a smile, letting her hair out of the clip and freeing her long curls with a slow shake of her head. "I'm sure they are, my friend…" She arched her back gracefully, pushing her breasts up and out as she spread her legs under his hungry gaze. "This is the _Mayoral_ office, after all; I imagine many important things have been done right here- on this very desk."

Bane walked over languidly, quirking an eyebrow at her humorous and sarcastic remark. She bit her lip to hide a smile as the aggravation seemed to wash away from his body, instead leaving him charged with an altogether more pleasing vigor. He moved in between her legs sliding his rough palms over her smooth skin, mapping the curves from her thighs to her neck- not missing a single inch. One large hand cupped behind her neck, his thumb toying with her flushed mouth; while the other settled at her hip- pulling her towards the edge of the desk.

"On this very desk…" His voice was nothing more than a low, husking whisper rasping through the mask as he contemplated her declaration, "Yes, little one, there will be important things done right here… right now."

Talia sighed with an aroused moan as she greedily reached out to grab at the front of his pants, lust racing through her body at the feel of his familiar hardness already straining for her hands. There would be no rest for them tonight. Sleep could wait; tonight they would worship each other until the sun rose- and tomorrow, tomorrow they would meet their destiny.

* * *

**Ah…and here we are almost at the end…please excuse me while I go stock up on tissues and try to think happy thoughts…**

**Reviews will help with the sadness…**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Well…now for something **_**really**_** interesting- thought you were coming in here for Chapter 11 didn't you? Good news is I am writing it as we speak…even better news is that I have the privilege of sending you to read something incredible while you wait for it! **

**The amazingly talented 'leave your sanity at the door' sent me so many wonderful ideas about how Bane and Talia would spend their last night on Earth together, that (like any lazy writer) I told her to write **_**me**_** something…and boy did she ever…**

**So please head over and read her two part piece called 'Dawn'… it's **_**insanely**_** hot. And please make sure to give her love…she deserves it. : )**

**I'll see you all for the last bit of 'High Up Above or Down Below'…soon.**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Ah, yes…here we are. This was, without a doubt, probably one of the most difficult things I have had to sit and write for a good, long while. After all of the time I've spent in these character's heads I can genuinely say that I really, **_**really**_** wanted the movie to end differently…but, alas…Nolan has spoken…and I will abide… **_**for now**_**.**

**Just a couple of notes for this chapter: I have actually used a fair amount of Talia's dialogue from her final scenes- normally I really dislike reading stories that do it too much (we've already watched the movie and we all know what happens) - but the impact and the emotion that was conveyed in her lines was just too important to miss or cast aside. So if it feels like I am rehashing the movie too much…yea I guess I kinda am. : )**

**As quoted by Danny Vineyard in **_**'American History X'**_**: "…Someone else has already said it best. So if you can't top it, steal from them and go out strong…"**

**Also (I guess to make up for the above paragraph) for those who **_**have**_** watched the movie as many times as I have and are just as obsessive about detail…you may notice a few extremely subtle changes in words or events that I took liberty to change in a way that better fits my version of the story. So yea…it IS intentional… : )**

**As always I want to thank those who have favorited, followed and read…and especially those who have reviewed. (In particular Caligirl87 and Teanah (who needs to logon **_**not**_** as a guest so I can send a personal thank you : )) who have reviewed every chapter.)**

**Lastly, to my eternally cherished muse, someone who needs no introduction by now- I thank you for more than you know my friend…the confidence that you have given me will be repaid in many more one shots to come : ) **

**Usual disclaimers apply- own nothing… 'cause honestly it would NOT have been a happy ending for the Bat if I did… poor Alfred would have been crying, like super cereal…**

**So, without further ado…I give you Chapter 12…**

* * *

"Engage people with what they expect; it is what they are able to discern and it confirms their projections. It settles them into predictable patterns of response, occupying their minds while you wait for the extraordinary moment- that which they cannot anticipate." ~ Sun Tzu, The Art of War

* * *

Twenty minutes until detonation…give or take…it was the only thing that ran through her mind as she stared out the second floor window of City Hall down onto the crowd forming on the street below. Talia took a deep breath as she watched the scene unfold; the Gotham Police Department marching down to them in their uniforms, unarmed- in some sort of last ditch effort to stop the inevitable. It didn't matter. Her hand absently reached into the pocket of her worn, maroon tunic to grab the detonator; fingers rubbing back and forth across the smooth, metallic surface. They could come at her with the force of an entire army and _nothing_ would change the future; the bomb was going to go off and her father's destiny would be fulfilled- it was only a matter of time.

Talia saw everything in slow motion, first a blur of black cape and latex, and then suddenly the huge bulk of Bane's form as he moved off of the marble steps to meet with the Batman- her friend shrugging off his heavy long coat to seek him out in the middle of the mêlée. To the average witness, the brutal back and forth speed of Bane's punches would have seemed super human and absolutely devastating. But to someone who'd watched him spar and fight for the better part of twenty years, Talia noticed immediately that there was something wrong- he was sluggish and inaccurate. Perhaps his body was finally beginning to crack under the stress, or the fact that Wayne had done some serious training during his recuperation; whatever it was, the fact remained that her protector was beginning to run into trouble and he needed her help…now.

The plan they had discussed this morning as they drove back from their blissful interlude at Daggett's office was for her to remain hidden until the last few minutes when they could reunite for the end of it all. But that was fast becoming impossible, and she refused to leave him to do this all alone. Talia turned to face the young initiate standing guard beside her with his M-16, poised and alert. "We are going down to the main floor," her voice was a cold command, bereft of any sort of questioning. "Follow me."

Her feet pounded down the hallway towards the elevator; with each step her heart began to beat faster and faster, and by the time the doors finally opened it was practically racing. But nothing could have prepared her for what met her eyes as she turned the final corner into the lobby- the crash of breaking glass and the sight of Bane's large frame slamming into the granite monument in the middle of the floor and falling into a crumpled heap instantly stopped her in her tracks. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her 'guard' run to the doorway to assail the intruder; only to fall to the ground unconscious after one hit. His gun was thrown her way by the man in black- reflex alone made her catch it.

Talia closed her mind to the situation and circled behind Wayne to make sure that he was alone. _Fifteen minutes left_… now was the time to get the revenge that was owed to her.

Suddenly over the growling of Bruce's overly dramatic voice came a loud hissing noise that hit her like a bullet- tearing through her with a sense of horror and unimaginable dread- Bane's mask was damaged and venting gas. Every ounce of calm and control flew from her mind as she saw her friend curled up on the floor, gasping and choking for air as pain assailed his body without end. He was dying- it was _killing_ him. A wave of nausea rolled from her stomach and she had to force down the bitter bile that rose in her throat at the sound of his suffering. She couldn't let him die like this, not now.

With a trembling hand she pulled out her knife, holding it in her left palm tightly as she grasped the detonator in the other one. For a split second she looked down at the glowing red button, it would be so easy to do it right now. To end her friend's ceaseless and agonizing torment- to make things right- to make the world balanced and fair. But it was the Demonhead's voice that crept into her mind then, reminding her that the man who knelt with his back to her blade was the man who betrayed the League of Shadows and her father. He needed to know who she really was and what she had done right under his nose- he deserved to die under the crushing weight of his own failure.

Then as if something or someone divine answered her pleas, Talia heard her protector's broken, rasping voice- and finally Bruce's utter confusion, "But the child…the child of Ra's al Ghul made the climb?" Using the sweeping grace that had always been her calling card, she silently moved into a crouch beside him.

"But he's not the child of Ra's al Ghul…" Her voice was airy and gentle while her hand moved lightening quick, embedding the four inch blade to the hilt- finding a vulnerable spot in the side of Wayne's armor to drive between the ribs, deep but not fatal. "I am." A pained and panicked breath puffed out of his mouth as he turned to look at his assailant. The awe and betrayal in his dark eyes as he finally saw the detonator in her hands- calling out for Miranda Tate- was almost worth the hell she and Bane had been forced to endure.

It had been a decade since he'd murdered her father, and eight long years that she was forced to live a lie- to betray everything that she was- finally, to tell him this truth was like a release of nearly soul cleansing proportions. With a flick of her wrist she twisted the blade sideways, opening the wound to bleed him further, as a sense of calm euphoria settled over her body…it was time.

"Talia."

Her _own_ name floated out of her lips with a small smile. "My mother named me Talia before she was killed; the way _I_ would have been killed without my protector…Bane." As if tethered and compelled by the strength of their bond alone she reached out to gently refasten the tubes of his mask; making him whole one plug at a time, as she recounted the story of their lives. The legends of the Pit- of the child who made the climb, of her father's vengeance, and of the young man who had saved her; the one who had treasured her innocence and given a sickly girl-child the power to rise up, stronger and higher than any had dared before- only to be wrongly excommunicated for the hell he embodied.

Talia's sapphire blue eyes were soft and tender with a lifetime of emotions; never moving from her protector's as she spoke of his devotion, his sacrifice and his loyalty- venerating him with the only eulogy he deserved. And Bane looked back at her, his hazel eyes still bloodshot and red rimmed from the pain- but there, beneath the tears that fell freely down his cheeks, was the unreserved and unabashed tenderness that had, until this moment been witnessed by no one else. He had done nothing but worship her from the moment she had come into the world and his only crime- "…was that he loved me." She mused sadly.

"I could not forgive my father," Talia spoke slowly as she turned to the bleeding man beside her, as if realizing the truth for the first time herself. "Until you murdered him."

Wayne tried to rationalize his actions, to justify killing one person to save millions of "innocent" lives- it fell on deaf ears. There was nothing left of this city that was innocent and worth saving; the fact that a billionaire with all the money in the world had managed to enact little more than a corrupt law based on a lie was just further proof of the necessity of the League's mission. These people were not guiltless in their actions; the last five months had confirmed that- no, innocent was a too strong a word for these lost souls.

Bane finally rose to his feet as the analgesic gas took affect once more on his aching body. Though Talia could still hear the heavy shuffle of exhaustion in his booted feet as he collected a discarded shotgun by the door and a length of leather rope- one he'd been weaving by hand for months- for this very moment. She twisted the blade further and jerked upwards forcing Wayne to his knees to give her friend the ability to bind his arms and wind the rope around his neck in a tight garrote.

"I honor my father by finishing his work. Vengeance against the man who killed him is just a reward for my patience."

It had all come to this. She couldn't stop the feeling of triumph and glory as it rose up into her chest. And though her father would have chastised her for her arrogance- right now she deserved it. Talia al Ghul, the Demonhead, had achieved the League of Shadows ultimate mission and she would die feeling worthy of her title.

"You see, it's the slow knife…the knife that waits _years _without forgetting…that slips quietly between the bones…" She wrenched the blade again- just to see him gasp and beg as she brought the detonator to up- "That's the knife that cuts the deepest."

Without hesitation, she pressed the glowing red button.

Nothing.

"Looks like the knife was too slow," Wayne breathed the taunt in a wheezing voice, and Talia could feel the rage surge just beneath her skin. This was _not _over.

"The trigger is under attack!" Barsad's voice suddenly yelled out from the shattered doorway.

Instantly it became clear, the Commissioner and his damn detectives must have already discovered the empty decoy truck. She clenched her jaw hard and took a deep breath to calm herself. "Gordon- you gave him a way to block my signal." Talia turned her head do the door and issued a command for Barsad to gather a convoy to roll after them- apparently it was going to literally require her to be on top of things for this to succeed. "No matter, he's bought Gotham eleven minutes." She withdrew the blade with a sharp cut- inflicting more damage to his liver- before standing.

"Don't kill him; I want him to feel the heat." Talia absently instructed her friend, while her voice was transformed into a violent hiss with the revulsion and hatred she had kept carefully hidden inside for so long- she pointed at Bruce with the bloodied knife, "I want you to feel the fire of the twelve million souls that _you_ failed."

Her furious eyes rose to meet Bane's, anticipating some sort of acknowledgement, perhaps even argument at the command. She knew even after their reconciliation he still wanted to kill Wayne for daring to touch her, but instead she found nothing but devastating grief in those deep hazel pools. He wasn't thinking about the bomb, the plan, or revenge- he was thinking only about her. The awareness of his emotion tore through her pride and arrogance, and Talia's heart shattered- they were being separated again. One last time he would be forced to stay behind, to watch her go where he couldn't follow. Fate was torturing them both, condemning them to isolation in their last moments on Earth. And, _god_- it wasn't fair.

Her throat tightened with her sadness as she walked towards him, never once breaking eye contact. There was no time left. No time for sentimental expressions, for apologies, no time to possibly tell him all that was in her heart. The only thing they had left for comfort was the memories; a lifetime of cherished moments together and the faint fleeting hope that somehow, somewhere- and across whatever existential distance- they could find each other again.

With a shaking hand she raised it to softly caress his mask, her eyes closing at the feel of his warm breath on her fingers as she mapped the twists and turns of the muzzle for the last time. Her voice wavered and she said the only words that her overwrought psyche could form, as she tried desperately to ignore the unshed tears in his eyes. "Goodbye…my friend."

Talia quickly turned on her heels and ran towards the door, putting distance between her and her beloved protector before she lost her nerve and remained with him. She emerged from the building and towards one of the waiting tumblers, oblivious to the rain of bullets that suddenly began to fly all around her. She took Barsad's hand and stepped up into the cockpit, flinching as a shot ricochet off the metal in front of her face. The sniper let out a pained groan and fell back, and while she normally would have stopped to call out- she remained steadfast and focused, leaving him behind as well.

As the cover slid shut her cold stare focused at the police who were shooting at them. "Kill them- kill them all." It may have come from her mouth but the voice was not hers- it was purely that of the Demonhead. There was nothing left of Talia, any part of _her_ was left inside City Hall with Bane, all that remained was the ruthless inhuman heir her father had always wanted.

* * *

Frankie slid down a narrow alley as uniformed police and former Blackgate prisoners tore each other to pieces right in front of her. She checked her watch quickly- _thirteen minutes left_- she had to get her head into the game and get back to Barsad at City Hall. It was all seemingly pointless now, but instinct was driving her. With a quick breath she darted out of her hiding spot, trying to run through the crowd, weaving through the mass of people at a dead run.

Just one second- it was all it took. One minute she felt a tug at the back of her jacket and the next a hand fisted into her long hair- yanking her off balance and to the ground. Instinctively Frankie flailed her arms to try to free herself as her backside crashed hard onto the pavement, the impact was so jarring that she saw stars erupt behind her eye lids. She lay dazed and helpless for a moment as she gasped for air, from all sides hands reached out for her and panic surged through her veins.

'No, no, no!' Her mind screamed as men descended on her like rabid vultures- ripping, tearing and pulling at her clothes. She was hysterically clawing at the flesh of anyone who came close to her, biting, snarling and raging like an animal trapped in a snare. This couldn't be happening to her, not now- she would not die like this! A hand clamped down around her throat and began to squeeze, blood roared through her ears and darkness began to bleed into her vision…tears came to her eyes and she felt herself slip away…

Suddenly a deafening blast rang through the air- spiking her back to life like a shot of adrenaline to the heart. Machine gun fire sprayed across the crowd, completely leveling everyone in one fell swoop- prisoners, police and league members not smart enough to run. Frankie curled into a ball as her attackers covered her in a bloody cocoon, their corpses providing her with momentary protection. The pavement itself rumbled and shook as three of the armed tumblers roared past the mob; she sat up just enough to see them fall into formation flanking one of the massive trucks.

The bomb was on the move. Her bloodied and bruised wrist revealed the time ticking away…_eleven minutes left_…

Frankie pulled herself to her feet just in time to see a fiend of a motorcycle roar past her and she recognized the incredibly slender figure driving immediately- it was Selena Kyle.

The bomb wasn't on the move- it was under attack.

* * *

She needed to get into that truck- to get control of the situation. "Pull along side." Talia yelled as she opened up the canopy and climbed out onto the moving vehicle. The icy wind swirled around her like a tornado, the freezing cold taking her breath away as it stabbed her face like a thousand tiny needles. She moved as fast as she could, climbing along the metal roof and jumping onto the running board of the truck with a nimble leap.

It wasn't a moment too soon. She'd barely closed the door when the tumbler she'd been riding in exploded into a ball of frames. Talia gasped as she looked out the side mirror to see a hulking black, beast of a machine that looked like it had no business flying through the air. It was like nothing she'd ever seen before, her heart hammered in her chest and her blood ran as cold as the wind- it was a prototype from Wayne Enterprises Applied Sciences Department.

Batman had escaped City Hall; there was only one way that man would have made it out of the building alive. Her gut twisted sharply and she shook her head to block out the catastrophic wave of hysterical agony that gripped her- Bane was gone. Her friend was _dead_- and she was all alone.

An explosion rocked the cab and snapped her out of it, the driver instantly took a right turn to escape the onslaught and Talia recognized her surroundings- they were heading eastbound, towards the river. She snatched the radio from the center console and barked out to the vehicle flanking her, "They are pushing us towards the reactor; they are going to try to reconnect the core. Stop them!"

They laid down cover fire as the black helicopter weaved in and out behind them, constantly raining them with a hail of bullets and mortars. She glanced at the clock in the truck and calculated the timer at just as the tumbler to her left exploded into a ball of flames- followed by the one directly in front of them. Talia threw down the radio as the driver spun the wheel again- letting them drive them in the direction of the underground bunker.

"You have to stay straight!"

She screamed as another round of bullets sprayed the cab. Glass shattered and Talia covered her eyes, lurching to the side as the driver was hit in the chest. Panicked she dove across the seat, kicking open the door and pushing the dead man's body out. She tried to slide behind the wheel as the truck weaved dangerously out of control; her hands barely touched the steering wheel as a ball of glowing orange flame detonated all around her. Her eyes darted back and forth as she frantically tried to see where she was going- to keep the truck moving…she didn't see it until it was too late. The truck smashed head long into the median of the elevated road, plowing through the cement barrier like it was nothing more than a pile of powdery snow.

For a moment she was completely weightless… falling… down…and then as abruptly as a jerking rope had snapped the back of so many men trying to climb to freedom she slammed back to Earth.

She expected to feel pain, but the arcs of searing almost electric heat that surged across her skin robbed her of any measure of coherent thought. Her legs weren't moving- the bones shattered and her chest had been caved in- crushed by the steering wheel. Talia tried to catch her breath, gasping as a gurgling noise bubbled from her side- indicating a punctured lung as well. A pain induced and almost delirious laugh puffed from her mouth as she watched Gordon run to the side of the cab, looking for a survivor. He seemed genuinely surprised to see the crumpled form of Miranda Tate in the twisted wreckage.

Her eyes glanced up to the clock on the dashboard of the truck and couldn't stop smiling- they'd all forgotten about the fact that she and Bane had access to the underground chamber for the past five months. "Fox showed me how to operate the reactor," she explained with macabre glee. "He included the emergency flood." Her friend had the foresight to program it to release the deluge automatically only minutes before detonation- a final fail-safe. "There is no way this bomb can be stopped."

They'd actually argued about the redundancy of such an effort when he'd told her about it weeks ago. Talia insisted that it was a waste of time; that it would never get to that point and that he had become paranoid. Bane had simply crossed his arms and stared at her with a smile dancing in his beautiful eyes, 'You'll thank me before the end, little one.'

The memory of his voice whispered into her mind so clear, even through the haze of her pain. She needed him now; she needed to feel him again. Tears filled her eyes as she tried to speak- her gaze seeking out to find Wayne. To find the face of her most hated enemy- the man who had taken away _everything_ she'd loved in this world. Knowing that she was about to do the same thing to him was the only thought that gave her the strength to go on for just a few moments longer. "Prepare yourselves," she gasped, as the tears began to fall. "My father's… will…is… done."

* * *

Her father's will was done…her own words gave her comfort as the searing pain that wracked her limbs finally began to consume her. But as Talia closed her eyes to the world for the last time and felt the life drain from her body, it was not the thought of Ra's al Ghul and the legacy of the League of Shadows that gave her lasting peace. Instead it was the realization that after all this time, after so many years of constant running and hiding- she and her protector would be free. Free from the shackles of fate and pain that had weighed them both down from birth; one soul forever liberated from the prison of two bodies- never to be separated again.

At last they would climb to freedom together- finally they could rise.

* * *

**Gah…I know…I KNOW… **

**Good News: There **_**will**_** be an Epilogue to follow! **

**Please, please let me know what you think…you have NO idea how many times I had to torture myself and watch Tom Hardy cry to write this…the emotional damage… ; )**


	13. Epilogue

**AN: After the last chapter I just felt like there were things that needed to be tied up, nice and neat in a little bow…so that is where the Epilogue concept came in. I am not going to lie; I actually had this scene in my head when I first started writing the story- so it was funny to steer events back to here. **

**I don't know if I'd call this a happy ending…but I guess I'd just say, "There are no happy endings, because nothing ends."**

**So I hope you all have enjoyed this story as much as I have writing it…I still am kinda in shock that it is all done. : ) Please let me know what you think…it was a labor of love. **

**Thank you to all that have supported this story…and I can't wait until the next one! **

**Still own nothing…**

* * *

"I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times…In life after life, in age after age, forever. My spellbound heart has made and remade a necklace of songs, that you take as a gift, wear round your neck in many forms…In life after life, in age after age, forever." Rabindranath Tagore

* * *

She watched it happen. Frankie stood helpless on the side of the road as she saw the truck plow through the concrete barrier and careen down to the road below. Her hands flew to her mouth in terror when she saw the driver for the smallest of moments- it was Talia. The unmistakable crash and twisting of metal and the sound breaking glass echoed loudly down the now quiet street. It was like watching some sort of film of absolute catastrophe, Frankie felt completely disconnected as the minutes ticked away. It should have been over by now…and then, suddenly a hulking black machine rose out of the street and into the sky towing something tethered from a cable. He'd done it- Wayne and his traitorous little bitch had done it.

And _their_ success meant only one thing- Talia and Bane had to be dead. The gravity of that thought took her legs out from underneath her and Frankie collapsed to her knees in a daze. She couldn't comprehend it, couldn't get her mind around it- they were so strong; she'd almost thought them to be immortal. Now they were just…gone.

Only a matter of seconds later she heard the detonation in the distance. The massive shockwave miles away still sent a strong wind blowing through the deserted streets. It was the jolt she needed to pull her out of her stunned revelry. The truck- she had to get to Talia.

She sprinted as fast as she could to the off ramp, pushing her bruised and still aching body to the limit as she ran the nearly quarter mile distance to the wrecked vehicle. Her hands were literally shaking with a mixture fatigue and adrenaline as she approached the open driver's side door. The entire frame of the truck had been bent in half from the impact, and Frankie kept her ears and nose alert as she noticed the overwhelming smell of spilled diesel fuel.

"No…" The pained whisper caught in her throat when she finally saw her friend. A hot rush of tears poured down her cheeks as she stepped up on the running board to see her more clearly. "Oh, no…what have you done!" Frankie let the loud choke of her sob echo freely through the air- not caring at all that someone might come across them.

Her thin fingers stretched out to gently touch Talia's cheek, stroking the soft skin and tucking a stray piece of her dark hair behind her ear. Frankie leaned in to kiss her forehead; she was so cold already. But peaceful- for the first time in her life the woman looked serene; still beautiful, even in death.

The sound of a truck rumbling behind her made Frankie snap her head around. Her eyes darted around frantically- she wouldn't leave her behind, not like this.

In an instant she went from outright panic to almost euphoric joy. A beat-up SWAT team van stopped beside her and before the wheels stopped rolling, Barsad jumped out of the open passenger door and crushed her into a tight embrace; whispering her name and many other endearments in his native Albanian faster than she could manage to translate as he held her close. He pulled away and cupped her face with both hands as he kissed her lips tenderly, asking quietly. "Are you alright?"

Frankie nodded slowly, ignoring any of the bruises and cuts on her body as nothing but trivial flesh wounds. She took a ragged breath and calmed her tears, only managing one word, "Bane?"

Barsad's blue eyes closed tightly at the mention of his brother in arms and he shook his head only once. It was strange; despite the grief that welled up inside her at the mention of his demise, there was also a feeling of relief. They were together. The thought of one having to live on without the other was a fate worse than death.

She leaned in to kiss him when she noticed the crimson stain covering the shoulder of his jacket, the red smeared all across his Kevlar vest and running down his arm. Her eyes flew open in shock, "You've been shot!"

"I am fine." He grunted, pulling away as she tried to examine the wound. "It grazed the top of my shoulder. We need to go- now."

"I'm not leaving her here like this." Frankie declared in a cold voice. "I won't let them touch her."

A confused look crossed Barsad's face, "Of course not. We are going to take them home." The matter of fact answer almost made her feel foolish for saying anything at all. The man had been loyal to Bane for longer than she'd known her Mistress- ready to die for them only an hour ago, why would he be anything but devoted to them in death? He turned around to yell to the driver of the van; a tall, hulking, dark skinned Arabic man she'd seen only a few times before.

"Mahir, attend to the Demonhead."

The man nodded brusquely, moving past them to grab Talia's body. His movements were reverent as he pulled her from the twisted cab and carried her to the back of the van. Frankie tried to turn her eyes away as they opened the doors to reveal the bloodied remains of Bane, but she couldn't stop looking. His chest had been hit with a massive blast of some sort, and judging by the charred remnants of his skin and vest nearest to the wound it had been at point blank range. And even now- just as the pallor had stolen none of her beauty- he'd lost none of his menacing power. She couldn't help but sadly smile, he would no doubt protect her in the next life as well.

Mahir lowered the broken woman beside her beloved friend and covered them both with a couple of black jackets to shield them from unworthy eyes. Without another look back the three of them climbed into the cab of the van and drove towards the boundaries of the city.

* * *

Getting out of the city was remarkably easy without the threat of the bomb- or Bane. They had driven right out of the South Street tunnel, past a few shell shocked Police and Army soldiers who were far too busy with the starving and hysterical population of Gotham citizens to notice one little SWAT van.

And getting them out of the country was going to be even easier.

Frankie grabbed Barsad's satellite phone and made a quick call to the hangar across the bay where Miranda Tate's three private planes were waiting. Thankfully with years of serving as her secretary, she knew every last one of Talia's Swiss Bank accounts and all of her passwords- it didn't take very long to procure a pilot who was more interested in money than asking questions. She smiled as she recalled one of the first conversations she'd had with Talia, years ago in her rundown apartment in Varna, it seems that money always lured the weak to think they have power. Her Mistress would have no doubt appreciated the irony.

* * *

Barsad had wanted to take them back home; to the base of the Annapurna Range in Nepal, where the League of Shadows had reigned over the valley for thousands of years. It was the first place they had been free of the Pit together, and it seemed a fitting place to end it all. They journeyed into the mountains by helicopter, truck and finally their friend's bodies- preserved by the freezing winter cold- were loaded onto a cart and pulled on the shoulders of yaks until they arrived at the small village at the foot of the mountain.

Words were barely exchanged with the town's people as the red scarf around both Barsad and Mahir's necks marked them instantly as members of the League. They were ushered to a high, flat plain outside of the walls that overlooked the massive peaks of the Himalayas, a place of utter peace and quiet- a place to sleep, forever. Bane and Talia were laid to rest on a pyre of Banyan trees, piled up by villagers eager to serve the daughter of Ra's al Ghul for one last time. Frankie had been insistent on having them burned; after spending so many years of their lives trapped in the underground hell of the Pit, she couldn't bear condemning them to a hole in the soil for an eternity.

She and Barsad approached their friends for the last time. Frankie collected the small, blue knitted cowl from around Talia's neck; balling up the soft fabric and placing it in the pocket of her jacket. Her tears flowed freely, burning in the cold mountain air as she looked up at the quiet sniper. He was more pensive than normal, pausing only for a moment before reaching down to unfasten the hooks and clasps that held on Bane's mask.

"He should leave this behind." Barsad explained calmly as he finally loosened the muzzle and pulled it clear of his head, "Doesn't need it anymore."

Frankie didn't know what she expected to see when his features were exposed, but the face of the man that was revealed to her bore little resemblance to the terrifying, remorseless mercenary feared all over the world. He was unnervingly handsome; aside from several deep scars that criss-crossed his chin and the top of his nose and a few silvery strands of tissue that radiated out from where the metal border of his mask had bit hard into the flesh of his cheeks, the rest of his face remained completely intact. A set of full, beautiful lips stood out among proud masculine features; and it wasn't hard for Frankie to see how _this_ was what Talia saw when she looked at him. This was the face of the man she loved- the man who had saved her.

They stood together as the fires were lit and the warm, orange glow of the flames engulfed everything in a roaring blaze. Barsad stared into the twilight sky, his sad eyes seeming to map the entire scene before them for a few silent minutes before taking her hand in his and squeezing tightly. "You want revenge."

It wasn't a question- and it took a minute for Frankie to internalize the feelings that were swirling in her head. "I hate them both." She answered angrily, "I want them to suffer for what they did."

He shook his head slowly before turning to her with a stern glare. "I will not bury you." Frankie opened her mouth to reply and Barsad continued without letting her speak. "I have spent my life searching for satisfaction within revenge, and I have never once found it- not for even a moment. I am done Franziska, I want to live. Come with me."

She turned her head away from his, looking at the burning forms on the pyre as the flames danced around them- his words rang loudly in her ears. He was right. She'd never been happy, never once lived her life without looking over her shoulder…and as she stared at Talia and Bane she knew what she wanted. "I will."

Barsad smiled warmly and wrapped her in a tight embrace, his lips resting on the crown of her head. Frankie breathed deep and exhaled out the last bit of pent up rage from her body, she felt the huge burden of all she had lived with and under, for the past decade fall to the ground and disappear. It _was _done- all of it. Her eyes followed a curl of dark smoke as it rose up high into the sky, only to be caught on the winds and scattered to the heavens. Gentle, peaceful…free.

* * *

**Ahhh, so there you have it…please leave a review…it makes me smile.**

***Pssst* Hey…anybody a fan of the 1985 movie Clue?**


	14. Epilogue 2!

**AN: So the 'Clue' reference was 'cause the movie had three endings : )**

**Originally I was going to end it with the last epilogue…but then the Superbowl 'blackout' happened and Twitter was all alight with jokes that Bane did it. So my lovely muse bent my ear and said, "This needs to happen. They can't die."**

**How could I disagree with something like that?! **

**After all Nolan is all about ambiguity, I mean we never **_**see **_**Bane's body…and Talia well- hell- the Demonhead does NOT die like that. So, this little bit of inspiration is what was born!**

**I guess it's kind of a multiple choice, if you want the story to just end…well you have the first epilogue. But, if you are like me and just refuse to let them go, then we can just imagine this is how it all went down : )**

**A super special thanks to my girl…without you this would never have happened XD!**

* * *

"Your true task has just begun, and you may not know in your life if you have succeeded in it, but only if you fail." ~Peter S. Beagle, _The Last Unicorn_

* * *

_Two years later:_

The warm Florentine air breezed into the open window and stirred her heated body immediately from her sleep; it was just after ten in the morning and the temperature was already nearing ninety degrees. Frankie yawned and stood up from the bed, throwing on her thin, linen nightdress to avoid getting any more uncomfortable. She stretched her arms over her head and sighed as the bones in her back popped back into alignment with a satisfying crack. Out of pure instinct her eyes scanned quickly across the hotel room to assess the surroundings. The room was a rather lovely affair of soft, muted cream and white stone walls with a big open air balcony that overlooked the city from across the Arno River- and the overstuffed feather bed, covered in gauzy white sheets, had become a rather wonderful and well used part of the simple Tuscan style furnishings.

She walked quietly to the corner of the room with a shuffle, grabbing the local news paper and a cup of now lukewarm cappuccino that had been delivered hours ago. As she sipped on the delicious coffee she couldn't help but smile as an alarming headline jumped out at her in Italian. _"Chairman of Wayne Enterprises Denies Existence of Top Secret Weapons Program after Data Leak." _Apparently Mr. Fox needed to spend a little more time monitoring his computer systems and a little less playing the corporate puppet…after all you never know who is watching.

"You know, drinking cappuccino after breakfast time is considered rude in Italy." Barsad's amused taunt pulled her eyes up from the newspaper. Frankie quirked her eyebrow and took another sip, staring defiantly at the Sniper as he leaned casually against the balcony in the early morning sunshine. He was more relaxed these days, as evidenced by the linen draw string pants and snug white tank top he was wearing. Gone was the constant military attire and bulletproof vest, although it was never far from reach and his Barrett M82 still sat in the corner of the room- fully loaded.

"Good thing I am already rude." She answered, placing the cup gently on the end table before crossing the room to meet him outside; her hands came around his waist as she moved her lips up to his, "No one will fucking notice."

His hand came up to tangle in the cascade of her blonde hair that fell to her waist, grown long on his request, before he kissed her; his tongue instantly delving deep. A moment later Frankie felt him turn their bodies gently and help her up to the ledge of the balcony before moving in between her thighs. Hands moved from her head to her thighs, hiking up the already short material and she could do nothing but moan low in appreciation. They had always had satisfying trysts as lovers, but ever since the failed destruction of Gotham he had become absolutely insatiable- taking her wherever and whenever the urge struck. And as the pleasant soreness between her legs would attest- his urges were anything but sporadic.

Frankie's hands snaked out to release the ties from his pants when suddenly the insistent ring of the satellite phone cut through the haze of passion like a cold shower. She really wanted to ignore it; actually as she felt his impressive hardness strain against his pants and into her completely naked, overheated core she wanted to pitch the fucking thing over the edge and into the river. But Barsad pulled away, ever the responsible one. "You should answer that, you know what we'll have to deal with if you don't."

She rolled her eyes and slid off the ledge reluctantly. "You don't have to tell me. I've been listening to it long enough." With quick steps she walked into the room and answered after another few beeps, giving a polite cough to bring her voice back to normal.

"You're calling early."

* * *

_Only a matter of seconds later she heard the detonation in the distance. The massive shock-wave miles away still sent a strong wind blowing through the deserted streets. It was the jolt she needed to pull her out of her stunned revelry. The truck- she had to get to Talia._

_Frankie sprinted as fast as she could to the off ramp, pushing her bruised and still aching body to the limit as she ran the nearly quarter mile distance to the wrecked vehicle. Her hands were literally shaking with a mixture fatigue and adrenaline as she approached the open driver's side door. The entire frame of the truck had been bent in half from the impact, and Frankie kept her ears and nose alert as she noticed the overwhelming smell of spilled diesel fuel._

"_No…" The pained whisper caught in her throat when she finally saw her friend. A hot rush of tears poured down her cheeks as she stepped up on the running board to see her more clearly. "Oh, no…what have you done!" Frankie let the loud choke of her sob echo freely through the air- not caring at all that someone might come across them. _

_Her thin fingers stretched out to gently touch Talia's cheek, stroking the soft skin and tucking a stray piece of her dark hair behind her ear. Frankie leaned in to kiss her forehead- she froze instantly at the small pained groan that came from the woman's mouth._

"_Talia!" She gasped letting her hands fall to her neck to feel for a pulse, it was there- very faint and fading fast, but it was there. She was alive. _

_The sound of a truck rumbling behind her made Frankie snap her head around. Her eyes darted around frantically- she wouldn't leave her behind, not like this._

_In an instant she went from outright panic to almost euphoric joy. A beat-up SWAT team van stopped beside her and before the wheels stopped rolling, Barsad jumped out of the open passenger door and crushed her into a tight embrace; whispering her name and many other endearments in his native Albanian faster than she could manage to translate as he held her close. He pulled away and cupped her face with both hands as he kissed her lips tenderly, asking quietly. "Are you alright?"_

_Frankie nodded quickly, "Talia, she needs help…" Her panicked mind suddenly registered the situation and she blurted out her realization, "Bane?"_

_Barsad's blue eyes closed tightly at the mention of his brother in arms, "He's alive- barely."_

_She leaned in to kiss him, purely out of relief when she noticed the crimson stain covering the shoulder of his jacket, the red smeared all across his Kevlar vest and running down his arm. Her eyes flew open in shock, "You've been shot!"_

"_I am fine." He grunted, pulling away as she tried to examine the wound. "It grazed the top of my shoulder. We need to go- now." He turned around to yell to the driver of the van; a tall, hulking, dark skinned Arabic man she'd seen only a few times before._

"_Mahir, attend to the Demonhead."_

_The man nodded brusquely, moving past them to grab Talia's body. His movements were reverent as he pulled her from the twisted cab and carried her to the back of the van. Frankie followed them as the door opened to reveal a badly injured Bane, one side of his body was burned and bloody- his chest armor was completely scorched black. What was even more peculiar was the thin man who leaned over him, ratty shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, hair and glasses askew as he drew a syringe full of drugs from a vial in his pocket before injecting it into the groaning, masked man's neck. He turned back to look at them with a cold glare- his ice blue eyes full of irritation. "Do you think we could move this along? I am not a goddamn surgeon."_

_Frankie almost jumped back when she realized who it was- Crane, the insane man that had run the show trials at City Hall. She spun to face Barsad, this man was not going to touch Talia; he was a lunatic. The Doctor stopped what he was doing and cleared his throat loudly, as if her reaction to him had been broadcast of a loud speaker. "I have dissociative identity disorder with a-typical schizoid and psychotic episodes that manifest themselves in an alter-ego created to subdue childhood abuse. It does not impede on my ability to be a physician- which I have been doing since I was twenty by the way."_

_She met his angry blue eyed stare with one of her own before jumping into the truck near Talia's weakened form. "Fine," was the only answer she gave as she gently caressed her friend's forehead as the doors were shut and the doctor got to work. "If you kill her I will gut you like a pig and stick you on a pike for the crows to eat."_

_Crane only raised his eyebrow and laughed as he drew another needle and injected Talia. "Don't worry frauline- they will be counting sheep in no time." _

* * *

"I didn't think ten was an unreasonable hour to call on you." Talia's accented voice floated through the receiver with a note of laughter and sarcasm. "Are you enjoying your vacation too much?"

Frankie snorted as she moved back to the balcony. "Mmm, I must admit this is one of the _nicer_ situations you've put me in." She stopped beside Barsad, who had picked up a pair of binoculars and was slowly scanning the three or four cafe's that lined the far bank of the river. He stopped after a moment and handed them to Frankie, letting her lift them to her eyes and following his extended arm to see a man in casual clothes sitting with a thin woman in a blue dress.

A chuckle of enjoyment bubbled out of her lips as the girl turned to look to her waiter, Frankie would have recognized that mousy, plain face anywhere- Selena Kyle. And a little incline of the eyepiece clearly showed that her lunch date was none other than the "deceased" billionaire, Bruce Wayne himself. "I am looking at your old business associate as we speak," her voice trailed off as she watched the couple, who were happily smiling and seemingly oblivious to everyone around them. "It would seem they have decided to take a 'clean slate' and retire to Tuscany- how romantic."

Talia scoffed loudly on the other end of the phone as an almost wistful tone weaved into her mischievous tone. "And to think he left his beloved city behind…"

"Unfortunate choice, I'd say." Frankie supplied as she handed the binoculars back to Barsad. "What is our next move?"

"Meet Bane and I in Katmandu in two days," She answered quickly. "I think it is time the Demonhead returns to the temple. After all, we have a League to rebuild and plans to make."

Frankie scrunched her nose at the thought of Nepal in July- the bugs and the stench of disgusting yak. "We'll be there."

She hung up the phone and cast it down on the bed with a sigh. It was going to be such a shame to leave Florence and this fleeting life of leisure behind; but there was work that needed to be done. Bruce Wayne wanted to save Gotham City from the cleansing, retribution offered by the League of Shadows and he had succeeded- twice. Talia al Ghul was now determined to make him regret that decision each day for the rest of his life. She would see to it that every last member of the Gotham's criminal underworld was released to tear the city to pieces, from the inside out, over and over again until it destroyed itself- and she would start by unleashing the worst of them all.

And as for Selena Kyle? Well, Frankie had a _very_ special plan that would make the cat-woman rue the day she betrayed her.

* * *

**I just had to! I have so many ideas bouncing in my head (and back and forth with my lovely : ) ) about where this could all go…**

**Hope you enjoy this ending as well…or maybe we should call it a beginning!**

**Tell me what ya think and see you soon!**


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